


The Slowburn of Touch-Therapy

by Jebbycakes3



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Coping Strategies, Counseling, F/M, False Accusations, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Harassment, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loosely Canon Compliant, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Negative Thoughts, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Therapy, Touch Therapy, alcohol consumption, eventual astuhina, fans and reporters suck sometimes, hangovers, i tried my best yall, slowburn, they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jebbycakes3/pseuds/Jebbycakes3
Summary: Sakusa wasn’t the type of guy that desired attention. Sure, it was great to be acknowledged and respected for how great he is at volleyball, but he didn’t need more than that. Whenever he watched Atsumu eat up all of the attention his fans and teammates give him, it made his eyes sore from rolling them so hard. He’s sure he’s seen his own brain once or twice. That’s not the point though. He doesn’t desire attention, but he does appreciate the random bolts of it.For instance, he was looking through his phone one evening when he got a random message from Atsumu. All of Atsumu’s messages are random, but this one takes the cake.Atsumu: Yo. Omi-kun.Atsumu: ur single right?***Or You get a job as the MSBY Black Jackal's mental health advisor, become aware of your crush on Sakusa Kiyoomi, and introduce the team to therapy. Yay!
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader
Comments: 37
Kudos: 182





	1. Introductions

Sakusa wasn’t the type of guy that desired attention. Sure, it was great to be acknowledged and respected for how great he is at volleyball, but he didn’t need more than that. Whenever he watched Atsumu eat up all of the attention his fans and teammates give him, it made his eyes sore from rolling them so hard. He’s sure he’s seen his own brain once or twice. That’s not the point though. He doesn’t desire attention, but he does appreciate the random bolts of it.

For instance, he was looking through his phone one evening when he got a random message from Atsumu. All of Atsumu’s messages are random, but this one takes the cake.

Atsumu: Yo. Omi-kun.  
Atsumu: ur single right?

Sakusa’s face curled in slight disgust. Why the fuck does that even matter? 

Sakusa: Why does that matter?

Atsumu: b/c I know a girl who thinks ur cute  
Atsumu: wanna meet her? She wants to meet ya

Sakusa: You and I both know that neither one of us has time for a relationship.

Atsumu: that sounds like a yes to me

Sakusa groans into his hands and goes to send Atsumu a strongly worded message about the fact that he indeed does not want a relationship, not because of volleyball, but for the damn principle that he doesn’t want any new germs in his life. However, his phone rings with Atsumu’s name plastered on the screen. He’d rather not answer, but if he doesn’t, Atsumu will call at least 20 more times until he answers. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with that.

“What do you want?” Sakusa sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, fuckin’ hello to yah too.” Atsumu huffs.

“This better be important. I will hang up.”

“It’s important for yah, yah lonely prick.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Omi-kuuuuun! I know a girl who’s single, gettin’ a master’s degree in psychology, and, get this shit Omi-kun, get this, she’s a huge fan of yers.”

“What does her being a fan have to do with anything?”

“’Cause that means she likes yah already.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me. A lot of people like us. We’re fucking professional volleyball players.” 

Sakusa doesn’t think he can handle much more of the conversation until he gets a text from Atsumu.

“Check yer phone. I sent yah a pic of her.”

Sakusa grumbles and opens up the message. His eyebrow quirks and his eyes widen a bit. The picture is of a woman sitting at a desk with textbooks spread all around it. She’s wearing an oversized Black Jackals’ tee shirt and her (h/c) hair tucked behind her ear. She was hugging one of her knees and holding up a peace sign as she gave a tired, yet bright, smile for the camera. Sakusa felt his cheeks get a bit warm.

“Didja see it? What do yah think? She’s cute, right?”

Sakusa hums in response as he closes the message. “Okay, she’s cute. What of it?”

“Damn, Omi-kun. Yer really fuckin’ dumb sometimes."

“Bye.” Sakusa hangs up before Atsumu could even utter another word. 

He tossed his phone to the opposite end of the couch and ignored it the next 15 times is rang. He’s had enough social interaction for one day. Probably for the rest of his week. Too bad he had to go to practice tomorrow and see Atsumu’s ugly mug for a whole day and listen to Bokuto shout over every little thing.

He really would rather stay at home and watch all of the games he taped of teams they’re going to play soon. But Coach Foster would make him watch it with the rest of the team. Something he also didn’t want to do. 

His eyes lingered to his phone. He really did think she was cute. He just a.) wishes that Atsumu wasn’t the one who suggested her, since he didn’t trust anything Atsumu said outside of volleyball, and b.) no one other than the few people he surrounds himself with actually respect his feelings on touching and germs. He didn’t need another person in his life that would shut him down or try to pressure him into doing something he didn’t feel comfortable doing. 

That night, Sakusa went to bed with a heavy chest and raw, red skin.

*** 

You woke up to your alarm blaring. Since when was it so loud? You swat at your phone until you’re sure you hit something to make the godawful noise stop. You grumble as you roll out of your warm sanctuary and into the cold, hard floor of life. You really needed to invest in a rug or something. 

You can hear Atsumu groaning in his room as you open the door to your own. You thought rooming with a professional volleyball player would be interesting, but it ended up being the most draining thing ever. Sure, you loved Atsumu. He definitely became your best friend over the past 3 years of you guys living together. But sometimes you wanted to punt him out the window.

Sometimes he would bring some of his teammates over to hang out, taking up the entire living room and being obnoxiously loud on days you just wanted to sleep, though you never did leave your room to meet them. Too much studying to do and very little energy for social interaction. Other times he would come home after practice and complain about something embarrassing that happened to him. All of this happening while he had Osamu on speaker phone. Osamu always apologized for his dumbass of a brother, but you laughed it off every time.

“Atsumu,” you yawned, “you’re gonna end up being late for practice if you don’t get your ass out of bed.”

“Fuck off (y/n).” He whines.

You fling open the door and flick on the lights. He hisses at the sting and chucks a pillow in your general direction. Atsumu is tone. Like he was sculpted from marble. God’s gift to the universe, if you will. He always walked around the apartment shirtless, and sometimes you wondered if he even owned a shirt other than his practice gear and his jersey.

“Yah fuckin’ asshole. I swear ta god if I did that shit to yah, ya’d end me.”

“You’re absolutely right.” You muse. “Get up. I don’t need Foster calling me.”

“The hell’s he callin’ yah for?”

“Do you really not care enough about me to remember why he’s been calling me the past couple of days?” Atsumu gives you a look like you’re speaking a whole different language to him. “Christ. Okay. Again. As I said 800 times, ‘Tsumu. I got hired by your coach to be the mental health advisor while I finish my degree, and hopefully, continue to do so after I become one degree hotter.”

“Damn girl, if yah became any hotter, yah might make me straight.”

“Fuck off.” You chuckle and throw his pillow back at him. “I’m supposed to come with you to practice today. You know, to meet the team. Atsumu I swear to god if you don’t actually get up in 30 seconds, I will punch you in the throat.”

“I’d fuck around, but I know yah’ll actually do it.” He snickers as he rolls out of bed. “Alright, Ma, I’m outta bed. Get breakfast rollin’.”

The two of you bicker all morning, which isn’t unusual. The neighbors thought you hated each other for the longest time, but you quickly explained to them that it’s all from a good place and that you do actually enjoy that dumbass’ company. It’s odd, though, that the two of you are leaving together so early in the morning, and even going in the same direction.

You built a routine around Atsumu and his crazy schedule. He had to build one around your everchanging one also. Neither of you were morning people, so you made sure to get him to stop for coffee with you. He liked his black, which made you think he was some sort of demon spawn. You teased him about it every time. The walk to the arena wasn’t long. He made sure the apartment was within walking distance so he could get some more exercise, but for you, you have to take a train 30 minutes one way for classes. You really wished that you hadn’t lost to him in rock-paper-scissors that day.

You and Atsumu talked about a little bit of everything on the way to the arena. His favorite manga was getting an anime soon (which you secretly already started paying for the streaming service it was on so you could watch it with him), and your favorite class was going to start talking about a topic you’re super interested in. He held the door for you when you arrived and basically pushed you through the doors.

You could feel your anxiety building in your chest and throat. You could feel your heart beating rapidly, and you started scratching at your head and arms. Atsumu knew the signs and made sure to hold your hands together so you wouldn’t go overboard. You appreciated his touch, and the fact that he did it discreetly so no one would question it. He held your hands and walked you into the gym, dropping you off at the bench to wait for the rest of them to come out.

You gazed around the gym and took a deep breath. You couldn’t stop fidgeting with your hands, so you decided to sit on them. Your feet begin tapping endlessly after that. You groaned and started pacing around the gym. You found a bottle of hand sanitizer and squirted some on your hands to occupy them. It feels like Atsumu left you out there for ages, but you check your phone and realize it’s only been two fucking minutes.

“Oh my god,” you groan into your hands, “I’m not gonna make it.”

“Oi,” a voice from behind you makes you flinch, “what are you doing in here?”

You turn and make eye contact with the one player on the team you’ve been almost obsessing over since he made the team last year: Sakusa Kiyoomi. You can feel your face redden and you stiffen up.

“I, uh,” you swallow thickly under his dark, scrutinizing eyes, “I’m here to meet the team.” You laugh weakly.

“Fans aren’t allowed in here during practice, you’re going to have to—”

“Oh! No!” You cut him off waving your arms around like a maniac, “I’m here to meet the team because I’m the new mental health advisor.” You stick your hand out. “I’m (y/n). It’s nice to meet you, Sakusa-san.”

Sakusa looks at your hand with a disgusted face that makes you pull it back with a quick apology. You sit down on the bench and cover your face with your hands. What a great fucking first impression, (y/n)! Real great, he’s going to think you’re some kind of psychopath. How could you not remember that he doesn’t like to be touched? Fucking UGH.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, (y/n)-san.” Sakusa mumbles.

You feel your heart clench. A nervous smile etches itself behind your hands, and you give a quick nod. You scratch your hands through your hair and close your eyes, taking a deep breath in the process. You can hear the roar of blood rushing through your ears and nothing else. You don’t even notice Atsumu come up to you until he grabs your hands and puts them together.

“Yah good?” He whispers as you slowly open your eyes.

“I think so.”

“Good, ‘cause if yer gonna be the mental health lady, yah gotta get yer shit together, scrub.” He flicks your forehead, and you punch at his chest.

“Don’t embarrass me.” You grin.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

***

Sakusa watches you basically crumble in front of him. Your body hunches over, your legs bounce, and you mindlessly scratch at your head. He’s confused as to what made you act like this. Is it because he didn’t shake your hand? Is it because he accused you of being a lost fan?

“Omi-kun!” Atsumu yells from the doorway. “Didja meet… Oh fuck.”

He jogs past Sakusa and crouches down in front of you. Taking your hands in his and pressing them together. He watches as you slowly perk up and even smile a bit. It was odd. He’s never seen Atsumu act like that with anyone. Atsumu’s a real fucking jerk to everyone. His ego is so inflated that Sakusa is hoping for the day that he’ll just explode into tiny bits. Sakusa hears Atsumu grunt as your fist lands on his chest. Your smile was tired, yet bright. Like he’s seen it before.

“Omi-kun!” Atsumu yells again. “Didja meet (y/n)? Ya know, our mental health lady?”

“Yep,” you blurt out, “Yep. We met. Then I made a fool of myself.”

That’s when it hit him. Sakusa’s mind wondered back to the picture Atsumu sent him a few days ago. That tired smile, that shiny (h/c) hair… 

“Atsumu, come here for a second.” Sakusa turns and walks towards the ball cart. Hands grabbing the nearest volleyball to keep his hands from clenching.

“Omi-Kun, what’s—”

“That’s her. Isn’t it?”

Atsumu hums to himself as he looks back over at you. Sakusa watches as a smirk morphs on Atsumu’s face. God, he wanted to punch him. He wanted to slam his face into a locker too. Just to be sure his face wouldn’t be able to look like that anymore. Atsumu side eyes him and laughs a bit.

“I knew yah’d like what yah saw.”

“What’s your relation to her? I’m not sure if I want to be interested in a Miya.”

Atsumu scoffs. “I’m gonna pretend yah didn’t just insult me. But nah, she’s my roommate.”

Sakusa’s gaze travels to you. He watches as you seamlessly introduce yourself to the rest of the team that files out of the locker room. He can still see the nervous ticks you displayed earlier, but at a smaller degree. 

He narrows his eyes and weighs his options. For one, you're cute, and have a degree in psychology, so maybe you’d understand his mysophobia. Then again, you’re friends with Atsumu, so that could mean a lot of things. Maybe you’re putting on a front. Maybe you’re one of those people that acts differently than they think and is actually the least understanding person on earth. But then again, you looked devastated when you realized that Sakusa would not be shaking your hands.

“Omi-kun. I can see the steam comin’ outta yer ears from thinkin’ too hard.”

“Fuck off.” Sakusa snaps.

“She’ll be here for a while. Take yer time in decidin’ what yah wanna do.”

Maybe he would take his time to think on it. The team is called over by Coach Foster who, again, introduces you to the entire team. You explain your job, give a brief introduction of yourself, and talk about what will be happening within the next few weeks.

“So, for about two weeks, maybe three,” you begin, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “I’ll be observing you guys in your natural environment.”

“Why’re you makin’ it sound like we’re animals (y/n)-chan?” Atsumu pipes up.

“Because you, specifically, are.” The team chuckles as you continue. Sakusa can’t help but smirk at your answer. “I’ll be observing how you all interact as a group and take notes of anything that I deem as something that could be worked on. You all work on getting yourself in top physical shape, but I’m here to make sure you’re in top mental shape. I may ask you guys a few questions about what I saw, but don’t feel obligated to answer them. Okay?”

The team nods in agreement. You step back so that Coach Foster can continue his speech about what they’re going to be doing in practice. Sakusa can’t keep his eyes off of you. The way you fidget with your fingers and then ultimately sit on them. He notices that your focus on Coach Foster doesn’t waver. You seem to understand everything he says and nods along with the team. You’re just so different from what he’s used to.

He’s definitely interested.

Practice goes off normally. The only difference is that you’re sitting on the bench with a pad and paper taking notes on their behavior. He’s not sure what that entails, but he doesn’t really care enough to ask. During one of the breaks, you ask Meian a question about how he tends to crack his knuckles and rubs at his thighs between plays. You spent that day only asking Mein questions. Sakusa realized that you’re going to focus on one person at a time until you get what you need. 

He was nervous about you getting to him.

“Oh shit. If I don’t hurry up (y/n)’s gonna leave without me.”

“You guys live in the same place though,” Hinata questions while he yanks on a change of clothes. “Why would she leave you?”

“She’s a fuckin’ asshole. That’s why.” Atsumu says with a smile.

“You guys seem real close.” Bokuto slings his arm around Atsumu’s shoulder. “Is there something you’re not telling us, Tsum-tsum?”

“Oh right. She’s my best friend.” The innocent answer made Inunaki bark out a laugh. “What? Didja think I was fuckin’ her?”

“Honestly, yeah.” Meian laughs. “She seemed so far out of your league, so I was concerned for her well-being.”

“The hell, Meian!” Atsumu whines as he packs the rest of his stuff. “She’s my best friend. Besides,” his gaze flicks over to Sakusa, “she’s got the hots for someone else.”

Sakusa heads home after practice, showers, and plops down on his freshly cleaned couch. He stares at the ceiling for a while before pulling his phone out and looking at the picture Atsumu sent him. A feeling of discomfort crawls up his throat as he thinks about how you’re going to be observing them for the next few weeks. What if he does something that you deem weird or gross or odd or abnormal or…

His skin is chapped by the time he falls asleep.


	2. Observations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa held the plastic encased consent form in his gloved hands and read it over. He saw that you attached a few more pages to his than anyone else’s. He flipped through the pages and stopped on the phrase he had been dreading since you found out about his mysophobia.
> 
> With the client’s consent, exposure/touch-therapy will be used in conjunction with cognitive behavioral therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad I get to put my degree to work :')
> 
> Enjoy!!

Observations have been going great. Everyone has been acting normal, excluding Atsumu, which you completely expected, and they’ve been answering your questions as best as they can. Your final observation was Sakusa. You knew from what Coach Foster and Meian had told you that Sakusa was the one that would need the most attention. You were nervous to ask him questions, and your usual anxious quirks began to surface as you walked into the gym.

You tried to hold your hands together, but it wasn’t the same as having someone else do it. You took a few deep breaths and realize that it’s only been making it worse. You end up sanitizing your hands and grabbing one of the volleyballs out of the ball cart. You haven’t played in about a year, but your body remembered the steps. You tossed the ball in the air, took a few steps, and slammed it over the net with a nasty backspin. You forgot how good it felt. 

You felt a bit at ease after that and walked to the other side of the court to grab the stray ball. When you turned back to put the ball away, you spotted Sakusa standing in the doorway, arms crossed. You felt your stomach drop. Were you not allowed to use the balls that the team was using? Should you have brought your own? 

“Ah, good morning Sakusa-san.” You force out as you drop the ball in the cart.

“Morning.” He stands about 6 feet away from you before he speaks up again. You take note of the distance and lack of mask. “That was a good serve. Do you play?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I played in high school and then beach during undergrad.”

“Oh? Hinata played beach in Brazil for a few years.”

“Ninja Shouyo, right?” 

How could you forget? Hinata rambled on and on about it once you told him that you also played beach. He even emailed you a few articles about co-ed pick-up teams during their off season. You were definitely interested.

“I think that’s what they called him.” Sakusa sanitizes his hands and starts to stretch. “You’re observing me today, right? You’ve asked everyone else questions… so I’m just assuming.”

“Yep. It’s your turn today. Just act normal. I’m not here to judge you.” You sit down on the bench and pick up your clipboard. “Can I ask you some questions before the team comes in?”

“Uh, sure.” He groans as he folds forward, palms touching the floor.

“From what I’ve been hearing, you don’t like being touched at all, correct?”

“For the most part. During games and practices, I would prefer no one touch me, but if it’s a pat on the back or anywhere where my skin isn’t showing is fine. I shower right after so...”

You write down what he says and continues to prompt him with questions. What’re your go-to cleaning supplies? How does the team accommodate you? What is something that I could do to help make it easier for you? Would you be willing to answer more questions after I observe you for a while? Any questions for me? 

He answered all of them in depth. He listed the supplies he uses. He talked about how the team gave him a budget to buy what he needed. They don’t touch him unless he gives them the okay. He’s not sure what you’d be able to do other than respect his space and concern with germs. He’d absolutely answer any questions you have as long as he felt comfortable. No. No questions for you yet.

You were astounded by the amount of information he gave you. He was very well aware of himself and the steps he took to make himself comfortable. You felt like you could honestly write him a plan right now, but you did want to observe him. To see if anything unusual happens. 

To your surprise, nothing unusual happens. You write down a few questions and try to pin down the right time to ask him. He takes quick brakes and stands back away from the team when Coach Foster goes over the next drill. Coach Foster’s phone rings and tells the team to take a 20-minute break while he takes this important call. Now was the perfect time to grab Sakusa. Not literally though.

“Sakusa-san!” You call out to him before he has the chance to get involved with anything else. “Can I ask you a few more questions? It’ll be quick I promise.” 

He nods and follows you to the opposite bench away from the rest of the team. He makes sure he’s at least 3 feet from you. 

“Okay first question, do you have any coping mechanisms you use when something unexpected happens? Like do you do any breathing exercises, rituals, things like that?”

Sakusa furrows his brows. “I’m not sure. I usually avoid situations that make me uncomfortable.”

Avoidance. That’s a huge obstacle. “Okay. Next question, I notice you press your palms together a lot. Is that something you do to avoid touching?”

“Yeah. I can keep my hands clean if I don’t touch anything other than them.”

“Do you wear gloves and a mask in public often?” He nods. “Okay. You don’t wear them to practice or games, is that because you’re comfortable in these situations, or is it because you don’t want them to affect the way you play?”

Sakusa purses his lips. “I think both? I’ve never played with a mask and gloves on, so I don’t want to start doing that. Again, I always shower after so it’s not like I’ll be stuck like this all day.”

You nod as you scribble everything down. You’ll have to go through all of your notes again before you make individualize plans for the team. You feel Sakusa’s dark eyes on you while you write.

“I think that’s all I have for you.” You say without looking up. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“Related to this or just in general?”

“Either is fine.” You put your pen and clipboard down to give him your undivided attention. You sit on your hands just in case.

“What’s your relationship with Miya? He says you guys are best friends, but it’s hard to believe that someone as educated as you is friends with that fucking ape.”

The question shocked you. You couldn’t help but look at him with wide eyes. You bite your lip and turn your head into your shoulder to stifle a laugh. But you can’t hold it in. You burst out laughing, making the whole team stop and look over at the two of you. You pull your hands from under your thighs and cover your mouth.

“Oh my god.” You force out between laughs. “We're best friends, but I feel more like his mom sometimes. We’ve been living together for three years and he drives me insane.”

“Again,” Sakusa says with a small blush on his cheeks, “how?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his sincere concern for you. “I’m not sure. I kinda just woke up one day and realized that I’d kick someone’s ass for him and that he’d do the same.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” He frowns at you.

“Don’t be sorry. I signed up for it. Literally, we have a ‘best friends’ contract and everything.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Honestly, yeah it is. Anyways, do you have any more questions for me before your break is over? If not it’s okay!”

He shakes his head, thanks you for your time, and heads back over to the team. You watch as Atsumu saunters over and plops down next to you on the bench. He puts you in a headlock and pressures you into telling him what was so funny. You told him as you broke free from his grasp and he smushed your face in his hands claiming that he’s not an ape. Sure Atsumu. Sure.

You and Atsumu walk home from practice, stopping for dinner on the way, and discussing what next practice is going to look like since you had to go to class. You were able to miss a few classes to focus on observing the team after you persuaded your professors that you would use the data for the upcoming projects you had. You needed to make sure you got consent forms out immediately. You spent the rest of the afternoon looking over your notes and trying to figure out what each player needed.

Bokuto needs help with his mild manic and depressive episodes. Hinata needs help with his executive functioning skills off the court. Barnes needs a bit of help with his anger, but it wasn’t something that needed a lot of attention. Meian needs help with coping strategies for his anxiety. You could see a few bruises on his thighs from rubbing them too hard. Inunaki was the only one that you were sure of that didn’t need help with anything, and that made you a bit anxious. You’ll keep an eye on him for a while.

Now for Atsumu, you felt like you didn’t have enough space to write down what you were going to have to help him with. You narrowed it down to the most prominent: severe mood swings. Sakusa was another tough one. You weren’t familiar with mysophobia, so you decided to stay up late looking at different discussion boards and scholarly articles on treatment plans. You found a few you liked and wrote them down. 

You decided to type each of them up a consent form and a bit of a description of what you thought they needed help with. It’s up to them to decide if they wanted your help or not. Sakusa’s was a bit difficult. How do you tell someone that doesn’t like to be touched that you’d have to do a bit of exposure/touch-therapy with them? You groaned. You wanted to make goals for each of them, but decided that you’d do that during the first session after you built rapport.

The first session with Atsumu would look a bit different since you already knew him quite well. You actually wrote a goal for him and made sure he knew that you were only his therapist during specific meeting times, though you knew there would be a bit of overlap when it came down to it. After you printed each of them, you gave Atsumu his to look over. You made sure he delivered each of them tomorrow and gave them your number if they had any questions. You slid Sakusa’s in a plastic sleeve so he could sanitize it if he wanted.

You went to bed exhausted for once. You felt sleep take you as soon as your head hit the pillow, mind swirling with ideas on how you’d confront each player about what they needed. A picture of Sakusa popped into your head. How it would feel if he touched you, even if it were just a high five or a brush of his fingers on yours?

You’d get there. You’d make sure of it.

*** 

Sakusa held the plastic encased consent form in his gloved hands and read it over. He saw that you attached a few more pages to his than anyone else’s. He flipped through the pages and stopped on the phrase he had been dreading since you found out about his mysophobia.

With the client’s consent, exposure/touch-therapy will be used in conjunction with cognitive behavioral therapy.

Touch-therapy? Touch-therapy with (y/n)? Impossible.

Sakusa threw the paperwork on the table and groaned into his hands. He felt his body tingle uncomfortably for a few minutes before he opted to hop in the shower and clean himself of the thoughts running through his head.

Your hands would be on him. You’d be touching him. He wanted you to touch him, but he didn’t at the same time. He wanted to be able to touch you. To be someone you’d consider being around more often. If Atsumu could make you comfortable, then could he? Did you want his personality around? Atsumu did say that you were interested in him, but in what way? Did you only see him as a professional athlete, or did you see him as a person?

The water was set to a scalding temperature and it made him wince as it hit his skin. He wanted to drown in the feeling of being clean, of thinking clean. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the idea of being touched without some kind of barrier. Did you know what you were walking in to? Did you have a plan or were you just going to thrust yourself right into his comfort zone?

He couldn’t stop scrubbing. He couldn’t stop thinking. He just couldn’t.

Sakusa doesn’t see or hear from you until the next week. You explained to them that you had to make sure you went to class when scheduled so you may not be able to meet with them on scheduled practice days. The team seemed to think it was fine, but you didn’t have an office to work out of just yet. Sakusa’s stomach clenched when you uttered the next words out of your mouth.

“If it would be okay with you all, the necessary sessions would take place in your homes or apartments until my office is taken care of.” You smile uncertainly. “If not, then I’d be happy to work with you via video chat or any other way that makes you comfortable.”

“(y/n)-chan,” Atsumu shouts, “they can come ta our place too, since it’s nearby.”

“Awesome, another option. I know privacy is important. So just think about it and get back to me by the end of the week? You should have gotten my number. Just text me what works best for you.”

Sakusa felt like he was spiraling. Having you in his house just felt invasive. He didn’t know what germs could be growing in Atsumu’s presence and he didn’t want to know. He really didn’t. 

Coach told them to practice serves, but you asked Sakusa to hang back for a bit. He felt uncomfortable. Not because of you, but because he couldn’t figure out what he wanted. 

“Sakusa-san, my office will be finished in about a week or two if you just wanted to wait for our first session? If not, just tell me what’s comfortable for you. I’m not going to push it.”

He watched as your hands twitched anxiously in your lap. You seemed to be doing your own self-therapy. He hasn’t seen Atsumu grab at your hands in over a week. You seemed a bit unsure too, which made him feel better in the regard, but worse in the fact that you’re just as nervous as him.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you. That’s all I can ask for.” 

The smile you give him makes his cheeks flush. He nods and walks over to the ball cart to start serving. His serves are a bit sloppy at first, but once he gets his mind under control, he’s back to his normal self. Mostly.

Practice finishes for the day and Sakusa can’t get the idea of you possibly coming to his house out of his mind. He’s almost embarrassed about it. The thought of you touching things in his apartment made him oddly grossed out but excited. He ended up texting you that night saying that coming to his apartment would be possible if you followed a few guidelines, to which you happily agreed and asked him to tell you what to do.

He smiled at your response. Last time he told someone new of the procedures before coming into his space, they immediately rejected the idea and made him feel horrible about it. Sure, he’s had teammates over, but only if he knew they’d just cleaned themselves before coming over. He even let Atsumu stop by for a few minutes since he witnessed him showering.

He told you to shower before coming over, make sure you have gloves and a mask, to have sanitizer handy, and to not be alarmed if he makes you sanitize yourself again. You agreed to follow the steps and even asked what type of gloves he preferred. His chest felt warm. No one’s asked that before other than his parents and his cousin.

He didn’t scrub his skin raw that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	3. Touch-Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa’s been working with you for a few weeks now. You made him creep out of his comfort zone. He only felt truly uncomfortable once. That day was today. You asked him to put his hand on yours. Without a glove. For 30 seconds.
> 
> He felt like his mind was going to explode. Sure, he touched your hand, face, and arms with gloves on, but you want him to touch you willingly without them? Impossible. Not going to happen. Especially not someone who hangs out with Atsumu. He’s sure you’re clean, but he’s not sure about the environment you live in. He wants to change. He wants to get better. But his mind is not willing to compromise.

Today was the first session with Sakusa. You were nervous. You made sure to do exactly what he asked of you. You put your hair in a bun since it was still wet and made sure to sanitize all of your materials before packing them in your (now sanitized) bag. Atsumu rolled his eyes and teased you for how much effort you were putting into this. You smacked him for that. 

You put on your freshly bought mask and gloves after you sanitized your hands and knocked on his door with your elbow. You were pleasantly surprised to find Sakusa in a black, long-sleeve tee, and gray sweatpants. His hair looked a bit disheveled, but you thought it looked good on him. No mask. No gloves. 

“Hi Sakusa-san.” You smile behind your mask.

“Hey.” He says almost breathless.

“Is it okay if I come in, or do you need a few minutes?”

“No, uh, come in.” He moves for you to enter.

You kick off your shoes and place them neatly to the side. His apartment is just as you imagined it. Minimalistic. His walls were white, a few pictures hung up here and there. One house plant that stood by the window. A small tan couch with red and orange decorative pillows on it and matching recliner sit in the middle of the room. The coffee table in front of the couches had a laptop charging on it. No TV in sight. You couldn’t see the kitchen from where you were standing, but you knew it’d be just as clean.

You step onto the carpet and feel how soft it is even with socks on. “Where do you feel comfortable having me sit?”

“Hang on.” He exits the living room and comes back with a towel. He spreads it over part of the couch. “Could you sit here, please?”

You nod and do as he says. You put your bag on the floor in front of your feet, careful not to let it touch anything else. He takes a seat in the recliner and puts his hands in his lap. You pull out your notebook and a pen and take a deep breath. You were in Sakusa’s space and you needed to make sure you didn’t upset him or push him too far.

“Sakusa-san, this meeting is just about getting to know you. And maybe, if you’re comfortable at the end, to start with the therapy I mentioned in the consent from.”

“The touch-therapy.” He grimaced. 

“We don’t need to rush anything.”

“Right. Okay.”

You asked him about his hobbies and what he was like in high school. You asked him about the foods he eats, places he likes to go, and people he’s comfortable with in his life. He offered you as much as he could. You didn’t push. It wasn’t time for that. The session was just about over when you prompted him again about starting the touch-therapy. 

“I won’t do anything you don’t like. We’re going to take this super slow.”

“Can you give me a minute to think.”

“Take all the time you need.”

Sakusa exits the room again. You feel a small pit growing in your stomach. Maybe you did make him feel uncomfortable. Maybe you pushed it by coming over here. Maybe he wasn’t ready for this kind of therapy yet. You clenched your fists and held them in your lap. You’ve been working on yourself too. Don’t scratch. Don’t scratch. Don’t scratch.

Sakusa enters the room again, box of gloves in hand. “Can I wear these?”

“Of course!” You exhale. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

He pulls the gloves on and exhales the breath he was apparently holding. “What do you want me to do?”

“First I need you to sit next to me.” You point to the spot next to you and he freezes. “I know it’s difficult, but I promise it’ll be quick.” You give him an assuring smile (though he can’t see it under your mask), and he finally complies.

“I’m a little uncomfortable.”

“Yes. I know. But the whole purpose of this is to get you used to touching and being touched by others.” You held your hand palm side up in front of you. “I want you to put your hand on mine and hold it for a few seconds, or until you feel sick to your stomach. Okay?”

He nods and you can see him swallow thickly. He puts his hand on yours after hesitating a few times. His long fingers feel warm in your hands. You feel an urge to curl your fingers around his, but you remind yourself that this is for therapy, not for anything else. His hand shakes slightly in yours and you decide he’s done a good enough job to end it there.

“Okay. I think this has been enough for today.” He pulls his hand back slowly and holds it in front of him. “How are you feeling after that?”

“It wasn’t as terrible as I thought it would be.” He smiles. “I feel like I could have held it there longer.”

“Nah. We don’t want to push it just yet. We’re going to try something new next session. For now, I want you to try touching another person’s hand, with both of you wearing gloves, before we meet again next week. Of course, you can practice with me whenever I’m at practice, but I would like you to try with someone you’re comfortable with.”

Sakusa furrowed his brows. “Do I have to?”

You chuckle. “No, but I’d like you to try.”

Sakusa walks you to the door and waves goodbye as you exit his apartment building. You take off the gloves and the mask and put them in the nearest trashcan. You felt like the session went well. Atsumu probed you about what happened, but you told him that you couldn’t discuss anything. To which he whined about wanting to know all of Sakusa’s dirty secrets so he could annoy him more often. 

You felt like you took a small step with Sakusa. Hopefully the next session you could take an even bigger one. Well, that is, if he did what you asked of him. It didn’t feel like much of a request, but you knew it would be a bit difficult for him to execute on his own. Hopefully he’d reach out for support.

*** 

Sakusa’s been working with you for a few weeks now. You made him creep out of his comfort zone. He only felt truly uncomfortable once. That day was today. You asked him to put his hand on yours. Without a glove. For 30 seconds.

He felt like his mind was going to explode. Sure, he touched your hand, face, and arms with gloves on, but you want him to touch you willingly without them? Impossible. Not going to happen. Especially not someone who hangs out with Atsumu. He’s sure you’re clean, but he’s not sure about the environment you live in. He wants to change. He wants to get better. But his mind is not willing to compromise.

“Sakusa-san,” You say calmly, snapping him out of his trance, “how are you feeling right now?”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” Sakusa forces out. “I feel like I can’t do this.”

“Is it the skin-to-skin contact you’re bothered by?”

“Yes. I’ve only touched a few people. And even then, I felt sick.”

“We have the whole session to try it out, okay? Remind me again what your coping strategies are?”

Sakusa listed what they went over last week. Diaphragmatic Breathing Exercises, Progressive Muscle Relaxation, listening to music, etc. He felt like a child. Nothing they tried last week worked. Nothing made him calm down enough other than getting right in the shower and scraping the germs off of him. He felt like he was failing you, but he wouldn’t tell you that. He’d never admit to it.

“Have they been working? It’s okay if they aren’t, we can try something else.”

“They’re working. It’s fine.”

“That didn’t sound assuring to me, Sakusa-san. I won’t press, though. I know you’re feeling uncomfortable.”

You stuck out your hand. Sakusa glared at it. In his mind he was slathering it with hand sanitizer and sliding a glove on it. He was picturing what he wanted it to look like before he touched it. He was trying to not picture the unknown number of germs crawling on your hand. Nausea was rolling through his stomach like a rough ocean. He was fighting the urge to puke.

“Sakusa-san, you’re sweating.”

He grabs a tissue from the box you’re holding and dabs at his face. “I’m sorry this is just… So fucking hard.”

“I know it’s difficult, but I know you can do it.” You smile and extend your hand again. “Take your time.”

Sakusa take a deep breath and puts out a shaky hand. It hovers over yours for what seems like hours until he closes his eyes and drops his hand into yours. It’s warm. The warmth of your hand spreads through each finger, down his palm, and trickles into his wrist. He peeks an eye open and shiver runs down his spine. Your fingers curl slightly around his hands, but don’t touch. You’re chewing on your bottom lip and smiling. 

“Just a few more seconds.” You whisper, careful not to startle him. “Okay. You can take your hand away.”

Sakusa hesitates. He doesn’t want to lose the warmth he’s become accustomed to in this short amount of time. He wanted to feel more of it. He wanted to feel more of it?

“Sakusa-san? Are you feeling okay?”

He snaps his eyes open and pulls his hand back. He wants to reach for hand sanitizer, or take a shower, or cut his hand off. But what was that feeling a few seconds ago? Why did he want more? Why is he so conflicted in his feelings?

“I’m… I’m okay. I guess.”

“Good. Good.” You put out your hand again. “Let’s try with both hands.”

“Both hands?” Sakusa gasps. You nod at him. “Why? I thought we did enough?”

“You seemed comfortable at the end there. So, I want you to feel a bit uncomfortable again. The feeling of discomfort brings about change. Kinda like your volleyball skills. You had to practice and get used to the changes in your body, right?” He nods. “This isn’t much different. You have to practice touching and pushing your comfort zone farther and farther away to make it easier. Being stuck in the same spot is unfulfilling.”

He didn’t even notice you gently grasp his hand. The warmth shot through him like adrenaline. It coursed through his veins like fire. His body began to shake, but he didn’t pull away. Your hands loosely held his, giving him the chance to pull away, but he didn’t. Against his better judgement, he put his other hand on top of yours. Your eyes widened in surprise, and a wide smile grew across your face.

“I’m so proud of you!” You praise. “You blew all my expectations out of the water.”

He wants to keep touching you. He wants to keep feeling your hands in his. He wants to feel your lips across his knuckles. He wants…

“I want to keep going.” He blurts out. “Uh…” His face flushes red and he pulls his hands back like they were on fire. “I mean, uh, touching your hands felt nice. I mean, I mean…”

“Hey, hey,” You slid on a pair of gloves and applied pressure to his wrists, rubbing in a circular motion. You figured out it was a soothing spot for him when you watched him do it during practice. “It’s okay to feel that way. You didn’t say anything bad. I appreciate that you feel that way about me. It makes me happy.”

His body visibly relaxed. He exhales deeply and lets the muscles in his shoulders loosen. He was grateful for you. He let his head hang against his chest. He felt a swell of emotions lodge itself in his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but it escaped him as a gargled whine. He felt your body tense for a second, but you continued your ministrations.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. He was overwhelmed. His body was tingling. He almost wanted to run out of the room, but your hands on his wrists, warmth still seeping through the nitrate gloves, grounded him. He felt safe and that scared him. He felt vulnerable. He knew it was your job to bring this out of him, but did he really want to feel this way? He was fine before, after all. He liked keeping his distance. 

Something about you made him want to close the gap.

After practice was over, Sakusa spent a good 30 minutes in the shower trying not to scrub his skin raw. He washed the same spot over and over again until he felt dizzy. If you knew that this is how he reacted after the sessions, you’d be disappointed in him.

“I’m so proud of you!” Your voice rang through his mind.

He stops scrubbing. Body tensing at the image of your bright smile and proud expression when he initiated the touch. He wanted to see that again. He wanted to be able to touch you without feeling sick or anxious or depressed or…

“Yo, Omi-kun!” Atsumu shouts into the locker room showers. “Yah doin’ okay in there?”

“I’m fine.” Sakusa grunts.

“Alright then. (y/n) had a question for yah, but she said she can just call yah later.”

“I’ll be out in a second.” Sakusa curses under his breath and rinses off the remaining soap from his body.

He quickly dries off and runs through an abbreviated version of his skincare routine. He dries his hair the best he can and pulls on clean clothes. He takes a deep breath and exits the locker room, mask and gloves on.

You’re waiting by yourself outside of the locker room door, hands lightly scratching through your hair. Atsumu usually yells at you for doing it. You notice Sakusa and immediately stop. You look Sakusa up and down. It makes him feel like he’s being judged. Like he did something wrong.

“Sakusa-san.” You smile at him. “I forgot to mention something during our session today.”

Sakusa nods and walks with you out of the arena. You talk about how you’re going to have to take next week off to go help out at home. You told him that you could video chat with him while you were gone, or that the two of you could just wait until the next time you saw each other.

“We can video chat. That’s fine.” Sakusa grunts as someone almost bumps into him.

“Awesome. Thanks.” You stop in front of Sakusa’s apartment building with a knowing smile on your face. “Can I ask you something before I go?”

“Might as well.”

“You haven’t had any luck with the coping strategies, have you?”

Sakusa clenches his jaw under his mask. “No, they’re working just fine.”

“Then, tell me about the 30-minute shower, and your red, irritated forearm.”

You caught him. He knew he couldn’t hide it from you for too long. He felt sick to his stomach. You just said that you were proud of him, but now you’re disappointed in him. 

“It wasn’t—”

“Sakusa-san, I’m not mad.” He flinches. “I just want you to be more honest with me so we can work together on this. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do or say things to make me happy. I want you to do and say things that will help you feel better.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“Don’t apologize.” You tap a gloved fist on his chest. “You’re doing great. I don’t expect you to be perfect every time.” You back away with a smile. “You can call me if something isn’t working or if you feel like the shower is the only option. I can help distract you.”

Sakusa watches as you give an enthusiastic wave and walk off to your apartment that’s three blocks away. He feels a bit of warmth bloom across his chest where your fist was. You were right. He did need to be more honest with you. He did need to tell you when he felt like he was out of options. 

He walked into his apartment and paced back and forth in front of the bathroom door. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and flipped through his contacts. He stopped at your name and hovered his thumb over it. He holds his breath and taps call. It rings a few times before you answer.

“Sakusa-san?”

“Convince me that getting in the shower and scrubbing the shit out of my skin isn’t the best option right now.”

You chuckle. “Of course.”

*** 

Atsumu watches as you start to pack your things for the weeklong home visit. Your mom had been pestering you to come home and relax for a few days. Atsumu agreed with her, for once, and encouraged you to go and see your family. He’s sad you’re leaving him alone, but you told him that he could call or text you anytime. Osamu offered to come stay for a few days, but Atsumu didn’t want to inconvenience him. Afterall, Osamu lived almost an hour away from your shared apartment. 

“(y/n)-chan,” Atsumu whines into your pillow, “I know I said to go, but ‘m havin’ second thoughts.”

“Can’t live without me, huh?” You tease as you shove the last bit of clothing into your suitcase. “It’ll only be for a week. If I can’t tolerate being home for the whole time, or if something happens, I’ll come back early.”

“Yer mom’ll be mad at yah if yah do.”

“Maybe.” You groan as you struggle with the zipper. “Besides, being home is kinda boring.”

“That’s ‘cause yah thrive off bein’ stressed out, yah freak.”

“That’s rich coming from Mr. Mood Swing.”

“Fuck off!” 

Atsumu leaps from your bed and tackles you into the floor. You can’t help but laugh when his fingers tickle up your sides. You plead for him to stop and let you go, but he pretends not to hear you. After being absolutely tortured for what seems like an eternity, Atsumu stops, letting you breathe, and ruffles your hair.

You’ve been his rock for years now. The longest the two of you have been apart was a whole weekend, and even that felt like a lifetime. He felt like something bad was going to happen while you were gone. Like something drastic is going to impact your friendship. He knows he’s being dramatic. He was worried, but he put on a brave face for you. 

“’M gonna miss yah.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

“Me too, ‘Tsumu. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not all coping strategies work for everyone! :)


	4. Pushing the Boundary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Anyway,” Meian pipes up, “What do you need us to do for you?”
> 
> “I need… I want your help in getting better at touching people.”
> 
> The locker room goes quiet, save for Atsumu shuffling through his locker. Sakusa can feel their eyes on him as he continues to stare at his hands. Was he wrong to ask them for help? Should he cut his losses and just wait for you to get back?
> 
> Atsumu sighs and faces Sakusa. “Are yah tryin’ to impress (y/n) or are yah doin’ this for yerself?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got excited and posted two chapters at once! :) I have the fic all typed out, but like... editing's a bitch.
> 
> Also, I'm not sure how long it takes via train from Osaka to Tokyo, so I guessed (please let me know if my guess was wrong lol)!
> 
> There are mentions of a panic attack in this chapter, so if this is triggering/upsetting in any way, don't read after the second ***!

“I need you guys to do me a favor.” Sakusa forces past the lump in his throat. He was nervous. He didn’t want to do this, but he had to. He rubs his wrists and avoids eye contact.

“What’s this?” Meian says with a huge grin. “Sakusa’s asking us for help?”

“Do you feel okay, Omi-san?” Hinata giggles.

“You came to the right place, Omi-omi!” Bokuto shouts.

“Never mind. I’d rather die.” Sakusa turns to leave.

“Noooo! Don’t go! We’re sorry.” Inunaki blocks his path with pleading eyes. “We just never expected that you’d want our help. Right, Atsumu?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.” Atsumu says like he’s lost in space. “Omi-kun doesn’t wanna bother (y/n)-chan while she’s gone, so we’re second best.”

“You’re actually the last person I want to ask for help.”

“Love yah too, Omi.”

“Anyway,” Meian pipes up, “What do you need us to do for you?”

“I need… I want your help in getting better at touching people.”

The locker room goes quiet, save for Atsumu shuffling through his locker. Sakusa can feel their eyes on him as he continues to stare at his hands. Was he wrong to ask them for help? Should he cut his losses and just wait for you to get back?

Atsumu sighs and faces Sakusa. “Are yah tryin’ to impress (y/n) or are yah doin’ this for yerself?”

“Since when did you become his therapist?” Inunaki snaps.

“I live with one, ‘s not hard to figure out.”

Was he doing this for himself? Was he doing this for you?

“Why does that matter?” Meian says with a laugh. “He wants to get better, so let’s help him get better.”

“(y/n)-chan left a checklist of goals for yah on her desk.” Atsumu pulls on his practice shirt with a smirk. “I’ll bring it in tomorrow, and we can look at it. ‘kay?”

“For now, we should practice the stuff you guys have already done.” Meian rubs his chin.

“But we shouldn’t push if he’s not comfortable.” Inunaki mumbles.

The team continues to ramble on about what they think they should do to help Sakusa reach his goals. Sakusa stayed quiet but smiled slightly beneath his mask as he got himself ready for practice. The fact that they’re happy to help him makes him feel a little less nervous, but then again, who was he doing this for? Why was he even pushing himself to do better? Was it because of you?

“Guys.” Sakusa cuts them off. “Can you, maybe not tell (y/n)?”

The team looks at each other with knowing eyes and smiles. Atsumu laughs. “So, it’s for her, ain’t it?”

*** 

The week flew by. You were happy to see your parents again, and you made sure to take time to get your sessions in with the team. Sakusa seemed to be doing okay with his new coping strategies, and Atsumu cried actual tears when you told him that you missed him too. Also, during your week in Tokyo, you made sure to stop by the soft opening for the new Onigiri Miya to support Osamu. And, well, to talk shit about Atsumu.

You finally make it to the station after a 3-hour ride. Your body was stiff from sitting for so long on those godawful seats. You did a quick stretch before you exited the train. You half expected Atsumu to be waiting at the station for you. However, you were not prepared for the ENTIRE team to be waiting for you. You giggled as you watched as a few grumpy travelers had to walk around them to get to the train.

“It’s only been a week guys.” You say as you walk over to them. “Did you all miss me that much?”

Atsumu pulled you in for a tight hug, making it hard to breathe, while Meian ruffled your hair. 

“You bet we did!” Bokuto shouted as he slung an arm over your shoulders. 

“Not as much as Atsumu did though.” Inunaki shrugged. “He made at least one of us stay with him while you were gone.”

“Hey!” Atsumu barked. “That was supposed to be a secret!”

You laughed as they continued to tease Atsumu for not wanting to be alone and complaining about it. You glanced around the group and caught the eye of the last person you expected. Sakusa stood in the corner, away from the team, mask and gloves on, acknowledging you with a brief wave. You excused yourself from the bickering and made your way over to him.

“Sakusa-san, how are you?”

“I’m doing okay,” he nods, “Thank you for asking.” After a brief pause and a deep inhale, he asks you how your week was, even though he had already asked on Thursday. 

“It was good. I’m glad I got to see my family. Though, I’m happy to be back here with you guys.”

He nods again. You’re used to the peaceful silence. You glance back over at the rest of the team who were now looking towards you and Sakusa expectantly. You quirk a brow at them and turn your attention back to Sakusa, tilting your head slightly.

He closes his eyes and takes another deep breath. “(y/n), can I… Can I, uh…”

You never get the chance to ask him what he wanted to do. He pulls you close to his body. One hand shaking as it slid across your back, and the other softly touching the back of your head, pressing you against his chest. You could feel his heart beating wildly as his grip tightens slightly. You hesitantly wrap your arms around his waist, gently gripping the back of his shirt.

You were stunned. Shocked. Completely not ready for this type of interaction at all. Was this the same man that was too afraid to touch your hand last week? Was this the same man that wouldn’t let you near his apartment without specific precautions? How much has he grown in such a short amount of time?

You can hear the guys behind you wolf whistle and cheer for him. Sakusa released his grip slightly, signaling that he was ready to release you from the hug. You let go of his shirt and he abruptly pulls you back in. “Sorry. I just…”

“It’s okay.” Voice wavering a bit. “We can stay here as long as you like.”

“Thank you.”

“Is this why Atsumu asked me to tell him where your checklist was?”

“Uh…”

“Trying to impress me, Sakusa-san?” You glance up at him with a bright, teasing smile.

“Yeah… Actually.”

You feel a deep blush creep across your cheeks. You see his eyes crinkle, like when he smiles at you. You watch as he closes his eyes and rests his forehead on yours. You feel your brain short circuit. Your grip on the back of his shirt is so tight that you’re worried you’re going to rip a hole in it.

“Oh fuck, we didn’t teach him that.” Atsumu gasps from behind you.

“I think I might pass out.” Inunaki groans.

“Hey, hey! Omi-omi! Movin’ outta your comfort zone!” Bokuto hollers.

“I think (y/n) might pass out too.” Meian wheezes.

“Kindly fuck off.” You laugh into Sakusa’s chest.

“Hey Omi-san!” Hinata whines. “I wanna hug (y/n) too!”

“No.” He snaps, holding you tighter. “You’ll infect her with germs. I watched you bump into at least four people.”

“She’s a grown woman who can take care of herself.” Hinata says with a huff. “Now share!”

Sakusa rolls his eyes and finally releases you from the hug that sent your spirit to heaven. You missed the warmth of his body and tried not to think about the expanse of muscles you had pressed against you a few seconds ago. You were still dazed. You were still shocked. You wanted another one.

You end up giving the rest of the teams hugs too. Trying not to forget the feeling of Sakusa against you. Holy shit, you were on cloud nine for the rest of the day. Atsumu had to snap you out of it a few times with snarky remarks about being thirsty for the germaphobe and bragging about the amount of hugs Sakusa had practiced on him before they were sure he was ready to hug you.

Your phone buzzed shortly after 9pm with a message from Sakusa.

Sakusa: I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I won’t do it again if you didn’t like it.

You: No I totally enjoyed it! Thank you :)  
You: I’m a bit sad that everyone else got more hugs than me!

Sakusa: I guess we’ll have to practice more.

You choked on the air you were breathing which warranted concerned looked from Atsumu. You shook your head and waved him off. He shrugged and focused back on the volleyball game the two of you were watching.

You: Are you sure?

Sakusa: No.  
Sakusa: But I want to do it again with you.

Atsumu stole your phone after the screeching sound you made. He teased you for the rest of the night about hugging Sakusa and complained that his hugs must not be enough for you if you have to seek out a touch-starved asshole. You rolled your eyes and forced him to focus on the game. Maybe his hugs weren’t enough. Maybe you wanted what seemed out of reach.

*** (descriptions of a panic attack past this point!)

Sakusa woke with a start. The nightmare he had made him feel so disgusting. Flashbacks of his past. It made his mind feel contaminated. He felt dirty, unclean, unworthy of his life. His breathing is ragged, and his pulse is skyrocketing. He sits up in bed and feels the thin layer of sticky sweat covering his body. He needs a shower. He needs to wash himself clean. He needs…

He swats at his nightstand for his phone and instantly hits call. He gasps out a breath as he feels the unwanted thoughts closing in on him. After the third ring, he planned on hanging up, but there was a voice on the other end.

“Mmmn. Sakusa-san? Is everything alright?” Your sleepy voices pulls him back to reality.

“No. No. I’m not—”

“Do you need me to come do a house call?” Your voice was stern, yet calming.

He sits in silence for a minute. A house call? Why would you… “Oh, uh…”

“Sakusa-san, do you need me to come and check on you? In person? You sound distressed and I can be there in 10 minutes. But you gotta tell me what you need. I won’t do anything to make you feel worse.”

“Uh…” Sakusa’s mind waivers, he didn’t know if he wanted you to see him like this. What if you judged him? What if you thought he was stupid for letting his thoughts make him feel this way? He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Please. Please come by.”

“Okay.” He hears you exhale on the other end. “Okay. Do you need me to follow the same rules as last time?”

“You don’t… I just… Need you.”

You gave him an affirmation and stayed on the line with him until you got to his apartment. He kept telling you that he could wait until you got there, but you insisted. He couldn’t help but smile slightly. You told him that you’re bringing a mask, gloves, and a change of clothes if he asks you to shower. He grunted in response.

“Sakusa-san, I’m on my way, okay? How are you feeling right now?”

“I’m alright, I guess. I just really wish I was sleeping and not thinking about… stuff.”

“Okay, good. We can talk about the ‘stuff’ when I get there.” You suck in a breath through your teeth. “It’s starting to get chilly out.”

He hums in response. “Winter’s coming quick.”

“I like it because I get to wear sweaters, but I hate being cold. I mean, I’d rather be cold than hot, but like not too cold.”

“You’re hard to please, aren’t you?”

“Says the one who only uses a specific brand of sanitizer.” You chuckle.

“Excuse me for wanting to use the best.” He smiles. “Are you almost here?”

“I’m outside the door actually.” 

He hears a knock and hangs up the phone. He opens the door to you, still in pajamas, carrying an oversized bag. Sakusa quirks a brow, “It took you 12 minutes to get here. I’m disappointed.”

You roll your eyes and scoff. “I made it though! May I come in?”

He nods and opens the door wider for you. He almost forgot why you were there. You completely distracted him for a while. But the thoughts came back, louder than before. He staggers a bit before he drops to his knees by the couch. He’s sweating. His heart is pounding in his chest. His vision is blurring. He feels like he’s losing himself.

Worthless. Filthy. Unworthy. Disgusting.

He doesn’t hear you calling for him. He doesn’t feel you move him to the couch. He just watches as you cup his face with your hands and look all over his face for some sort of response. He watches your mouth move, trying to decipher what you’re saying. 

“—Omi?” He faintly hears you call.

“What?” He croaks out.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi. Can you hear me?” Your voice is calm, but he can tell you’re a bit frantic.

“Y-yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry I…”

“You were having a panic attack, don’t apologize.” He feels your thumb wipe across his cheek. He’s crying? “Do you want me to get you something to drink?”

He nods and watches as you try to guess where the kitchen is. He hears the faucet running and the cabinets open one by one until you most likely find the one with the cups. His body is still shaking, he’s still sweating, but he can still feel the warmth on his face from you touching him.

You were touching his face.

His face. With no gloves.

And he doesn’t feel sick in the slightest.

You return with the water and he watches as you fidget with your hands. He swallows the water in one gulp and sets the cup down on the table.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, looking down at his hands. “Thank you for coming by. I… This has happened before, but I would shower and scrub myself until my skin hurt and I know you told me not to and… fuck this is so hard. I can’t stop these thoughts and feelings and I don’t want you to think that I’m stupid for letting things I know aren’t true control my life.”

He felt your hand rest gently on his shoulder and squeeze. He liked that you made sure he knew you were there. That you were listening.

“I had a nightmare. I don’t even remember what it was about. But I woke up feeling disgusting. I kept thinking that I’m worthless for feeling this way and that I’m dirty for thinking so fucking negatively.”

“What negative thoughts are making you feel dirty and worthless?”

“I… uh… keep thinking about how much of a burden I am to the team, since I’m so different. And that I need things to be a certain way and I just… my parents were even sick of my needs at one point and I just felt that it would be best if I moved out. But I wasn’t ready, and I had to rely on them so much when I just wanted to get away and now, I’m relying on you and I’m so afraid that this is going to be too much for you and I’ll never get—”

“Sakusa-san.” You said softly, your hands clasping his gently. “You will never be too much for me. I’m sorry that you feel this way, and I know it’s tough. It really is. You will get better, because it’s what you want, right?” He nods, still not looking at you. “These thoughts that are circling through your head are very negative. Does this happen a lot?”

“At least twice a month.”

“You said you usually shower right?” Another nod. “How do you feel now? Even though you didn’t shower?”

“I still feel gross, but not as bad as before. I feel like I just need to get whatever it is off of me.”

“I think you should still get a shower. But! But, a quick one. Rinse yourself off, and put on some clean clothes. I’ll change your sheets for you, if you show me where the sheets are.”

His face flushes red and he looks directly into your eyes. “Uh. I can change my own sheets.”

“Yes, I know you can. I was just offering.” You smile at him.

“I’ll do that before I shower. Do you mind… staying for a bit longer?”

“Of course. I’ll stay here on the couch.”

The water of the shower is warm against his skin. He opted not to take a hot one so that he’d be out faster. He checked the time as he dried off and realized it was 3 in the morning. He quickly pulled on his clothes and ran out into the living room to find you asleep on the couch.

He feels a soft smile form on his face as he crouches down to your level and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. You whine in your sleep at the touch and he flinches. You look so peaceful. He feels so bad for waking you up and asking you to come here, but he’s happy he did. He grabs a blanket from his closet and covers you with it. He brushes a bit of hair off of your forehead and kisses it.

He kisses your forehead again, feeling nervous that he might wake you up. “Thank you for being here.”

Sakusa wakes up not even ten minutes after he falls asleep. This is the first time another person is staying over at his apartment. The first time a girl is staying over at his apartment.

That was the first time he kissed someone’s forehead. He kissed your forehead.

Needless to say, Sakusa did not sleep for the rest of the night.


	5. Allegations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Didja see this fuckin’ garbage article?” Atsumu yells. “Who the fuck do these cunts think they are?”
> 
> “What right do they have to post that?” Hinata crosses his arms and furrows his brows.
> 
> “Do they think yer some kinda fuckboy or somethin’?”
> 
> “They’re actin’ like you have a harem of volleyball boys or somethin’.” Osamu slaps his hand on the table. “So what we show affection to our friends differently than ev’ryone else? It’s none of their business.”
> 
> “They probably think we’re all fuckin’.”
> 
> “Please don’t mention fucking right now.” You groan.
> 
> “I thought I heard someone come into the bathroom this morning.” Hinata rubs the back of his neck and laughs nervously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is sooo long and full of the Miya twins with some AtsuHina :)
> 
> Things also start to get angsty, but hey, shit happens.
> 
> Enjoy!!

Atsumu woke up to his alarm for once. He forgot what it sounded like, since you always wake him up before it. He rolls out of bed, does a quick stretch and drags himself to the bathroom. He showers, fixes his hair, brushes his teeth, and stares into his reflection, looking for any imperfection you’d be able to help him cover up. He smiles smugly when he sees nothing wrong and finger guns his way into the kitchen.

He frowns when he realizes you’re not there. Are you seriously still sleeping? Usually you’re up early even on your day off, so he’s concerned. Are you sick? Should he stay home to help take care of you? He knocks on your door. No answer. His stomach drops a bit. You’re a light sleeper, there’s no way you didn’t hear him.

“Oi, (y/n)?” Atsumu opens the door. “Are yah…”

You’re not here either. There’s no way you left early to go somewhere. No fucking way you’d just leave and not tell him. He looked around the apartment, your overnight bag was gone, your shoes were gone, and most importantly, you were gone. He was confused. Where could you have possibly gone? Why didn’t you tell him where you went?  
He texted you a string of messages.

Atsumu: Where ya at?  
Atsumu: When tf didja leave?  
Atsumu: Hello?????????  
Atsumu: Is this some kinda joke? It ain’t funny.  
Atsumu: at least tell me ur safe

No response for almost an hour. Atsumu was angry. Pissed. He’s never been this angry with you. 

His mind wanders a bit. Did he say something that upset you? You usually talk to him if he says something stupid. Did you decide you didn’t want to be his best friend anymore and fuck off with Osamu somewhere? No, Osamu would rub it in his face if you did. Did you just decide that you hated him? Not possible. You love Atsumu. And he loves you too.

Did you think that Atsmu has feelings for you? Well sure, Atsumu loves you, but not like how he loves Hinata, though. But he does love you, like a lot. Has he started being weird about it? Did you think he was trying to get in the way of you and Sakusa? There’s no way! He’s the one that set the two of you up. Well, trying to.

He snaps one of his chopsticks on accident and curses loudly. Where the fuck did you go?

He walks to practice alone. He’s grumpy when he walks into the lobby. Hinata notices immediately and runs over to him.

“Atsumu-san!” Hinata’s smile is so bright that it almost, almost, fixes Atsumu’s mood. “Is something wrong? You look like you’re going to murder someone.”

“(y/n) left last night and didn’t tell me where she was goin’!” He drops his bag to the ground and groans into his hands.

“Are you her dad or something?”

“The fuck? No! Why wouldja say that Shouyo-kun?”

“Because she’s an adult? And she can go places when she wants to, right?”

“Well… yeah, but I still want to know if she’s safe!”

Hinata laughs, making Atsumu blush in embarrassment. “You must really care about her then if you’re worried.”

“I care about her a lot. Love her even. She’s my best friend and I just wanna know where she is.”

“At all times?”

“Most of the time.”

Hinata hums in response and looks out the glass door with a smile. “Looks like you get to ask her where she’s been.”

“What?”

“She’s about to walk in with Omi-san.”

Atsumu whips his head around and he gasps. Why were you with Sakusa? Why couldn’t you tell him that you were with him? What was going on? He’s trying not to be possessive of you, but damn, he can feel it growing in his chest. How dare you leave him, go somewhere without telling him, and show up with Sakusa? 

“Good luck, Atsumu-san.” Hinata pats his shoulder. “Don’t yell at her too much.”

*** 

Your alarm startles you awake. “Fuck it’s too early.” You mumble to yourself. You sit up, stretching your arms above your head and groaning. Something feels off.

Firstly, you’re sleeping on a couch. You know for a fact you have your own bed and that it’s super comfy.

Secondly, this isn’t your couch. Nor is it your apartment.

Thirdly, the front door opens, and a post-run Sakusa appears.

You can’t help but gawk at him. His shirt is tight against his torso, he’s running his hands through his curly hair, and he’s wearing leggings under his athletic shorts. Suddenly, you feel like you’re imposing. 

“Good morning, Sakusa-san.” You chuckle nervously as he takes his shoes off at the door.

“Morning.” He says as he passes you on his way to the kitchen “Did you sleep okay? I’m not sure if the couch is actually that comfortable.”

“I slept fine! It’s actually very comfy.”

“Hmm. That’s good. I’m going to get a shower. You’re more than welcome to get one when I’m finished.”

“Sounds great. Thanks!”

“Oh, and (y/n)?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks again for last night. I’m sorry I—”

“Don’t apologize, I’m happy I was able to help.” You gave him a sincere smile, and he gave one in return.

Today was an off day for you, from both classes and work. Sakusa and the team still had practice today, so you decided you would hang out in your office, maybe get some more sessions planned while you had time. The two of you decided to walk to the arena together. He made you breakfast and told you a bit about how he tries to run almost every morning before practice as a warm-up. He also showed you how flexible his wrists were.

You never thought flexible wrists were so sexy.

You and Sakusa walk in the front doors and are confronted with a seething Atsumu. The color drains from your face as you remember forgetting to leave a note and texting him where you’d be going.

“Do yah have any fuckin’ idea how worried I was?” Atsumu snaps at you. “Yah coulda been dead! The fuck are yah doin’ comin’ to practice with Omi-kun?” He gasps. “Did yah go over to his apartment for a late—”

“I dare you to finish that sentence Miya.” Sakusa’s voice is dripping venom. “I asked her to come by so I wouldn’t do something drastic in the terrible state I was in last night.”

“Sakusa-san you don’t have to—”

“It’s fine. It was either scrub my skin until it peeled off or call for help.”

“Omi-kun. Stop.” Atsumu holds his hand up. “I get it. I do. But a damn text woulda been nice. (Y/n), I know yer an adult and all, but please keep me updated. Fuck. I thought yah were… never mind. Why’re yah here on yer day off?”

“Paperwork?”

“Why’re yah sayin’ it like a question? Did some of Omi-omi’s peanut brain rub off on ya?”

“I feel like I’ve lived with a peanut brain long enough to not be affected by another.”

“Did you both just say I have a peanut brain?” Sakusa snaps.

“Of course not, Omi-kun. We would never!” Atsumu leans down and whispers in your ear. “We have about three seconds to run before he starts murderin’ us.”

You giggle at the way Sakusa’s eye twitches, and immediately take off running into the gym with Atsumu. Sakusa isn’t far behind. He runs straight to the ball cart and starts spiking balls at the two of you. One of the balls catches Atsumu in the hip and he goes down so ungracefully that Sakusa actually asks him if he’s okay. After Atsumu give him the thumbs up, the balls start flying again. 

At one point, you start hitting balls back at Sakusa, who easily dodges them, until one of Atsumu’s serves smacks him right in the thigh, leaving him open. 

You run over to him and tap a ball to his chest. “Gotcha.” You snicker as he rolls his eyes.

The next thing that happened was unexpected. 

Sakusa cups your face and kisses your forehead ever so gently. You hear two balls drop to the floor, a loud gasp, and a door slamming shut. Sakusa pulls back and looks into your eyes. There was no nervousness, no hesitancy… just confidence. You felt your knees turning to jelly as he ran a thumb over your bottom lip.

Neither of you say anything as you hold his gaze. He has no gloves on. He’s touching your face. He’s touching your mouth. He kissed your forehead.

Sakusa Kiyoomi, the king of being touched starved and hating germs, the mysophobic member of the team, kissed your forehead without any hesitation.

What else is he willing to do?

It seems as though he can read your mind, because he leans down closer to your face, lips just a breath above yours. You close your eyes, waiting for the contact, but it never comes. 

“Gotcha.” He says smugly as he pulls away.

Your face heats up with embarrassment. 

“Yah play dirty, Omi-kun.” Atsumu laughs from behind you.

You push at Sakusa’s chest playfully and pick up the ball at your feet. “I’ll give you three seconds to run, or I’ll shove this ball so far up both of your asses, you’ll wish you never played volleyball.”

Atsumu runs past you, swatting the ball out of your hand as he grabs Sakusa’s shoulder and pulls him along.

You sigh as you watch them run into the locker room. You glance around at all of the balls scattered about and get to picking them up. A smile creeps across your face. He really did get you, huh.

That’s the moment you realized how far you’d fallen. And it was too late to climb back up.

*** 

Atsumu groans as he plants his cheek onto the cold counter at Onigiri Miya. The team is having an after-practice bonding moment where they get drinks and hang out. Astumu was so upset that his serves sucked today and wasn’t in the mood to get drinks. Or hang out. Until Hinata comes bouncing over to him asking if he’d go too.

“Of course, Shouyo-kun!”

He wishes he would have just asked him to come over to the apartment. You were running late since you had to go to a doctor’s appointment, so he couldn’t exactly complain to you. He really wanted the ground to swallow him up. Osamu swats at his head making him jump up and spew out any threat and insult he could think of in the moment. Osamu rolls his eyes and hands him a beer. 

“Chill out yah demon.” Osamu scolds. “I ain’t gonna let you taint my nice establishment with yer nasty mouth.”

“Fuck off, ‘Samu.” Atsumu takes a huge swig of his beer and slams it down on the counter. “Yer lucky I’m trying to look cool in front of Shouyo-kun or I’d murder yah right here in yer ‘nice establishment.’”

“Say that again ‘round (y/n) and she’d smack yah.”

“She wouldn’t hurt me. I’m her bestest friend. It’d probably hurt her more since she’s so weak.”

Thwack!

Atsumu clutches the back of his head as you sit down beside him. “Weak you say? I guess I’ll need to practice smacking you more.” You greet Osamu and are presented with three onigiri. 

“How could yah do that to me? I thought we were friends?” Atsumu whines while grabbing at your arm.

“It’s called tough love yah scrub.” Osamu pipes up from the kitchen.

Atsumu huffs as you laugh at him. He watches as you eventually grab a drink from the fridge and start helping Osamu make onigiri. You’re not very good at making them pretty, but they stay together and are edible. Unlike when Bokuto tried to help. He shivers at the memory and gets up from his seat.

He really came here to hang out with Hinata, so he takes a seat next to him, feeling a bit more confident from the liquid courage he downed quickly. Hinata smiles beautifully at him and pats his back. He’s so smitten by the wing spiker. You’ve told him over and over to make a move.

“The worst he can say is ‘no,’ Atsumu. It’s not like he’s going to shut you out from being his friend.” You told him the night prior. It’s almost if you had anticipated this group meeting.

He falls into a comfortable conversation with Hinata. Watching as his bright orange hair bounces when he talks. Atsumu really wants to run his fingers through it. Is it soft? What does his shampoo smell like? Hinata’s eyes sparkle when you place some onigiri in front of the two of them. Atsumu knew Osamu made them since they were in perfect shape.

Atsumu sighs as he takes a bite of the onigiri, surprised to see that these were not made by Osamu, because you put his absolute favorite filling in them. Osamu usually hid the fatty tuna when Atsumu came to visit because he knew he’d eat it all. You must have brought extra with you. He could have cried on the spot if Hinata wasn’t sitting right next to him.

“(y/n)-san! These are amazing!” Hinata shouts.

“Right?” You puff your chest in pride. “I learned from the best!”

“Yah hear that, ‘Tsumu?” Osamu grins smugly. “She said I’m the best.”

“I always said you were the better twin.”

“Hey!” Atsumu pouts. “I taught yah how to make onigiri yah lyin’ sack o’ shit!”

“Did yah hear that, (y/n)?”

“Hear what?”

“Sounds like a lil bitch.”

Atsumu groans, restraining himself from vaulting himself over to Osamu and choking him out. Hinata laughs at the exchange, making Atsumu blush. 

“You guys must be really close.” Hinata beams, bits of rice stuck to his face.

Atsumu wants to lick them off.

“Sometimes I wish they’d just fuck off.”

“We’re just doing it because we love you, Atsumu!” You coo from across the room.

“Speak for yerself.” Osamu punches your shoulder.

“I’m gonna kill ‘em.”

Hinata laughs and rubs Atsumu’s back. 

The team starts slowly leaving. It is getting pretty late. The only ones left in the shop are Sakusa, who’s (flirting) talking with you, Hinata, who’s a bit tipsy leaning against Atsumu, and Bokuto, who’s asking Osamu about new onigiri flavors. Atsumu really wants to run his fingers through Hinata’s hair and kiss him. He’s been fighting the urge all night.

“Mmm.” Hinata stirs. “Atsumu-san?”

Atsumu hums in response, wrapping his arm around Hinata to steady him on the stool.

“Can I come over?”

Atsumu tenses. He glances over at you with red cheeks. You raise an eyebrow at him and cock your head to the side. He watches as your face contorts from confused, to analyzing, to realization. You give him a sly grin and nod your head.

“Sure. Shouyo-kun. Yah can stay the night too, if yah want.” He glances back over at you with a stay-out-late look, making you laugh.

“Alright. ‘Samu, let’s go get fucked up.” You say with earnest, making Osamu groan. “Sakusa-san, Bokuto-san, are you guys coming too?”

“I think I’ll pass.” Sakusa scowls. “I don’t know what kind of germs are in those fucking nasty places.”

“I’m going to pass too!” Bokuto sighs. “’Kaashi has to get up early and I don’t wanna keep him up.”

“Booo.” You pout.

Atsumu rolls his eyes at you and focuses his attention on the red head hanging on his arm. “Let’s go, Shouyo-kun.”

Hinata stumbles a bit behind him, but he keeps up with him as they say their goodbyes and head to the door. You shout at Atsumu to keep it PG, to which he responds with a simple middle finger. Hinata just laughs.

They make it back to the apartment Atsumu shares with you, and Hinata can barely keep his hands off of Atsumu. Atsumu is taken aback by his forwardness, but accepts each kiss, nip, and lick as they come. He feels sparks shoot up his spine. He was expecting a bit of persuasion on his part, but Hinata seemed to know exactly what he wanted. They stumble into Atsumu’s room shutting the door behind them. Hinata pulls Atsumu down onto the bed, laughing when Atsumu yelps.

“Shouyo-kun.” Atsumu moans as he mouths at Hinata’s neck. “Are yah sure yah wanna do this?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” Hinata whines. “I’ve been waiting for this, Astumu-san. I’ve been waiting for you to take me.”

“Fuck.” Atsumu hisses. “Fuck, Shouyo. I’ve been wantin’ ta fuck yah since high school.”

Hinata pulls Atsumu down for a bruising kiss and swallows eat whimper and moan. Atsumu’s hands push Hinata’s shirt up, exposing his tone chest and abdomen. Atsumu plants sloppy kisses wherever he can reach, teeth nipping at the tanned skin.

Hinata grips Atsumu’s hair with one hand, and the sheets with the other. “Show me what—ahh—I’ve been missing, Atsumu-san.” 

*** 

You wake up the next morning with a sore head and liquid sloshing in your stomach. A wave of nausea rolls over you as you stumble to the bathroom. You fling the door open and regret it immediately. You make eye contact with Atsumu, while he relentlessly fucks Hinata against the wall of the shower. He motions for you to get the fuck out before Hinata realizes you’re there. You quickly nod your head and shut the door quietly. You almost forgot you had to puke, until you see Osamu come out of your room in only his boxers.

“Oh fuck.” You groan as you run to the trashcan, emptying the contents of your stomach.

“I told yah not to drink that last bomb.” Osamu laughs. 

“That dude was challenging me.” You wipe your mouth off with the back of your hand. “I don’t regret it.”

Osamu hands you a paper towel and you clean yourself up. You’re still really confused why he’s in his boxers. And why he didn’t grab any pants? He and Atsumu are the same size. He even has a drawer for him in his room. 

“I’m still pissed that I didn’t get a chance to grab my shit from fuckwad’s room last night.” Osamu says, grabbing the blanket off the couch and wrapping himself in it. “I can’t believe they were still fuckin’ when we got back.”

“What time did we get back?” 

“Didja seriously blackout? Yah scrub.”

“No. Shut up. I’m just missing a few parts.”

“Alright. So we came back at like 1:30 in the mornin’. Yah were fucked up—"

“That was the plan.”

“—and yah told me to stay over since my apartment was an hour away.”

“Smart.”

“I was gonna stay in ‘Tsumu’s room, but when we opened the door to grab the futon—”

“They were fucking.”

“They indeed were fuckin’.”

You both hum in response. Osamu looks at the bathroom door and then back at you and frowns.

“They were fuckin’ in there too, huh?”

“I think I’m going to be scarred for life.” You whine, covering your face.

“Horny bastards. Well lucky for yah, I was an absolute gentleman, and only touched yer ass one time to get yah into bed.”

“How gentlemanly of you. I guess I’ll have to give Suna a good report.”

“He already knows. We sent him pics of last night. Do yah remember those?”

Yeah, you remember them. You begged Osamu to take pictures as proof for Suna that he doesn’t just work, eat, and sleep.

The two of you took one before you left the shop with the caption: (y/n) gets Osamu to take a break.

Then you snapped a few of Osamu stopping at late night food stalls: Can’t take the foodie out of the boy. 

The next set were of the two of you after you started drinking. The two of you apparently pretended to get engaged to get a free round of drinks: Did we just fake an engagement for free drinks? Yes, we did.

The last picture that the two of you took was of you playfully biting at Osamu’s cheek while he laughs: Contrary to popular belief; Onigiri boy does not taste like onigiri.

Suna and Osamu talked via video chat at the end of the night, laughing at the drunken state the two of you were in. He was so proud of your stupid adventure and stated that next time he will be the one to take high quality photos of the two of you acting like fools. Suna and Osamu talked on the phone for a bit longer while you tried to get yourself ready for bed by yourself, ultimately failing. 

You shake your head at the memory and get up on shaky legs. You walk to your room and grab your phone off of your desk. It’s dead of course. You grab your charger and take it out to the living room so you could sit with Osamu on the couch. You roll your eyes when you see that he’s still in his boxers.

“Are you going to grab pants, or just act like you live here?” You nudge him with your elbow.

“I’m hopin’ if I prove my dominance, yah’ll make me somthin’ ta eat.”

“Or you can just ask nicely and grab some pants.”

“I’m sorry my beautiful thighs are throwin’ yah off yer game.”

“I’m not sure why I hang out with either of you Miyas.”

You shuffle to the kitchen; head still throbbing and start making breakfast. You make something simple for you and empty out the fridge for Osamu and the horn dogs in the bathroom. You remind Osamu that he better grab his clothes while he can, and he quickly runs to Atsumu’s room. He mumbles something about leaving a set of clothes in your room too and you shake your head. It’s not the first time you suggested he do that. 

He comes back fully clothed and sits at the kitchen counter scrolling through his phone. “Holy fuckin’ shit.” He gasps.

“What is it?” You put his plate of food in front of him and he hands you his phone.

~Is MSBY’s Mental Health Advisor in it for the Popularity or the Athletes?~

“What the fuck is this?” You shriek.

~It’s no secret that the MSBY Black Jackals have been on their game as of late. The only change is the new employee that was hired at the start of the season: (y/n). She has been spotted being extra friendly with the members of the team, especially Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi. In addition to being extra friendly with the two starting teammates, (y/n) has recently been spotted getting handsy with Onigiri Miya owner, Miya Osamu.~

You drop Osamu’s phone on the counter when you scroll down to see all of the photos that they chose for this trash article. The first one is of you biting Osamu’s cheek from the night prior. The second is one of Atsumu giving you a kiss on the top of your head while you frown into your cup of coffee on your first day of work for the Black Jackals.

The final one makes you want to keel over and die. It’s a photo, clear as day, of Sakusa hugging you tightly with his forehead resting on yours at the train station when the team picked you up. You felt sick to your stomach, not from the hangover, but from the sheer audacity these reporters have for posting something like that without any of you knowing.

~It seems strange to see someone who is supposed to be helping with the team’s mental health being so physical with specific members. Another surprise is to see Sakusa touching another person. In a previous interview he mentioned that he was working on utilizing touch-therapy to help with his mysophobia, but it seems as though he’s not the only one doing the touching.~

~(y/n) seems to have also to roped the Miya twins in her grand scheme. Miya Osamu is a shock due to the fact that he is openly dating Suna Rintarou of EPJ Raijin. No word on Suna’s reaction to the relationship between the two of them. Miya Atsumu has been spotted with (y/n) on several occasions, each time walking together or in a date-like scenario. Rumor has it, that they live together, since they live in the same apartment building, but we have yet to confirm it.~

~Is (y/n) manipulating the team to get what she wants? Hopefully we’ll have more information shortly.~

“Fuck off.” Osamu snaps at the article. “They’re actin’ like yah manipulated us into being friends with yah. And what the fuck is up with them stalkin’ yah?”

You hear your phone buzzing on the coffee table and hurry over to it. The team group chat is busy. Messages continuously rolling in. You hesitate to open it but are happy that you do. Most of the messages are the same reaction Osamu had. They’re pissed that someone would even post something like this about you. Bokuto even said he and Akaashi would be your bodyguards for as long as you need them to. Inunaki offered that you stay with him and his girlfriend until all of this blows over. Barnes said he’d take out any reporter trying to hassle you. You chuckled and declined all of the offers. Meian told the team to not discuss any of this in any interviews, unless it’s to ask for hard proof of the allegations.

Your heart stutters when you see a message from Sakusa outside of the group chat.

Sakusa: Are you okay?

You: Yeah, just a bit pissed.

Sakusa: Just a bit? I’m furious that they did that to you.  
Sakusa: You’re far from manipulating anyone.  
Sakusa: If anything, you won us over from being genuine.

You: Thanks Sakusa-san! 😊 I’ll be okay. I have Osamu here with me and Atsumu.

Sakusa: I take it Hinata is still there.

You:  
You: I literally just got that image out of my head.

Sakusa: ??

You: Never mind. Thank you for checking in on me!

Sakusa: Of course. Let me know if you need anything.

Atsumu and Hinata burst out of the bathroom, fully clothed for some reason? The two of them are seething. 

“Didja see this fuckin’ garbage article?” Atsumu yells. “Who the fuck do these cunts think they are?”

“What right do they have to post that?” Hinata crosses his arms and furrows his brows.

“Do they think yer some kinda fuckboy or somethin’?”

“They’re actin’ like you have a harem of volleyball boys or somethin’.” Osamu slaps his hand on the table. “So what we show affection to our friends differently than ev’ryone else? It’s none of their business.”

“They probably think we’re all fuckin’.”

“Please don’t mention fucking right now.” You groan.

“I thought I heard someone come into the bathroom this morning.” Hinata rubs the back of his neck and laughs nervously.

The three of them banter back and forth about the lack of subtlety in their sexcapades and you try to laugh along. But you can’t get the idea that these people think you’re some kind of manipulative bitch only in it to be around good-looking men. Like, sure, it’s a perk of the job, but you’re not using any of them for any of your desires. 

You feel a deep urge to hide yourself in your room creep up your spine. Waves of self-doubt and anxiety wash through you. Do you even deserve to work with the team after these accusations? Do you even deserve to have friends like Atsumu and Osamu? Do you even deserve to share the same space as Sakusa?

You start to scratch your forearms. Your jaw clenches. Your vision goes foggy. You just want to get away.

You quietly head to your room, put on a jacket and a pair of jeans, and head to the door. You’re not sure if they noticed you yet, you’re losing touch of your senses. You feel caged in and you need to get out. You quietly shut the door behind you and take off in a sprint. You’re not sure where you’re going, and you don’t care.

The cold winter wind burns your skin as you run the entire way to the arena. You’re not sure why you’re there, but that’s where you end up.

A flood of messages from Atsumu and Osamu asking where you are makes you feel worse. Atsumu even asked for your number and you don’t respond. You don’t know what number you are. You sit down on the bench and scratch your fingers through your hair. It stings a bit, but it helps you feel something.

“(y/n)?” 

You pause your ministrations and look up at the person who called out to you. Sakusa must be in the middle of his run because he’s breathing heavy and a sheen layer of sweat covers his face.

“(y/n)?” He repeats. “Are you okay? Talk to me.”

He crouches down in front of you and presses your hands together like Atsumu does when you start scratching yourself. You don’t stop the tears that well up in your eyes from falling down your cheeks. You can’t stop the sob that racks through you. Your chest tightens when you feel strong arms engulf you. Sakusa whispers soothing words into your ear as you hiccough sobs into his shoulder.

“I don’t deserve this.” You squeak out. “I just... I just want to help people and… and live my life how I want to.”

“There’s nothing stopping you.” Sakusa pulls back and fishes a pack of tissues out of his pocket. “Those reporters are pieces of shit. You’re far better than them.”

You nod and take a tissue from the pack. “I’m sorry I’m so gross.”

“You kind of are.” You huff out a laugh. “But I’m not disgusted, surprisingly.”

“That is surprising. Shows you’ve improved.”

“All thanks to you.”

Sakusa looks into your eyes with affection and admiration. He stands and extends his hand for you to take. You entwine your fingers with his and he leads you back to your apartment, where Atsumu and Osamu hug you tightly. You try to make it seem like you’re good, but the shadowy monster of doubt still lingers in your mind.


	6. Hitting Rock Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The team seems more aggressive on the court lately, any input on what is causing that?”
> 
> “I thought that was obvious? One of their own was basically thrown into the tabloids. She’s been continuously harassed by reporters, fans, and random people on the street. They’re stressed. They’re in full attack mode. They’re showing that they don’t take kindly to anyone that messes with one of their own.” Foster laughs bitterly. “They’re going to protect her with everything they have on and off the court.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention from last chapter! When Atsumu asks about a number, I was referring to a counseling-ish technique that involves using a number system rather than feeling words. For instance, if Astumu says he's at a 2 or a 3, then he means he's depressed, anxious, angry, etc. Also, if reader says she's at a 1, she means extremely depressed, extremely anxious, and possibly suicidal. Usually, higher numbers (between 8-10) are for positive feelings, neutral feelings are from 5-7, and negative feelings are from 1-4.
> 
> The number system (usually on a scale of 1-10) can be super helpful for people that can't verbalize how they're feeling!
> 
> For this chapter, the number system is used again, and there are mentions of self-harm, mental breakdowns, and harassment. So, again, if this is triggering in any way, please be careful reading!

After their game with EPJ Raijin, both teams were invited over Bokuto’s large apartment to hang out. You end up coming too, since Bokuto begged. Atsumu begged a bit too, but you always tell him no.

Atsumu was having a great time. He missed Suna and Komori. He wished they could visit more often, but their schedules were always packed. Atsumu and Hinata went public with their relationship right after that trash article was posted about you. Hoping that it would take the focus away from you, but it did not.

You were harassed almost every time you stepped out of the apartment complex. People there asking questions, reporters taking more pictures, and fans sending you hate mail. Atsumu could tell that it was weighing you down. He hadn’t seen a genuine smile out of you in days. He thought that the party would help, so he convinced Bokuto to beg you to come. You always had trouble saying no to Bokuto.

Atsumu came out of the bathroom at Bokuto’s after washing up from a dare that involved letting Hinata pour ranch in his mouth. Everything was going well until he choked, splattering it all over his and Hinata’s face. The group howled with laughter, except for Sakusa, who thought it was the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen. 

Atsumu took a look around and noticed that you were missing. He told you to tell him when you were leaving so he could make sure you made it to the apartment safe. Bokuto’s is only a block or two away, but who knows what could happen in that short amount of time?

“Where’s (y/n)? Did she leave?” Atsumu questioned Meian.

“She looked a little distressed and then said she was heading home.” Meian scratched at his chin. “She said she was fine, though. I thought she might have drank too much and wanted to go home and get comfy, I don’t know.”

Panic swirled through his mind. He snatched his phone out of his pocket and moved himself to a quiet corner of the apartment. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up, please.

The phone clicked and he heard you breathing in the background. “Tell me yer number (y/n).”

You let out a whimper. He heard a bit of shuffling and a distinct clink of something metal hitting the floor.

“(y/n).” He strained, trying not to sound panicked. “What number are yah at right now?”

“Atsu…”

“(y/n), please.”

“One. It hurts. I can’t…”

“I’m comin’ to yah. Be five minutes.”

Atsumu felt dread wash over him. You’ve only been at a one two other times. The first time he almost didn’t get to you fast enough. And the second, he was with you when it hit. He watched as you broke. Shattered into pieces on the floor in front of him. All he could do was hold you until it passed. He didn’t want this to be a repeat of the first time. 

Sure, he’s been a two or a three many times before, but it was easily resolved by an hours’ worth of soothing head scratches and angry tears. You were always there for him. 

Though, you always kept it together. He made sure to be there to quell your anxious ticks, to make you laugh whenever you had even the hint of a frown on your face. You were his best friend, his person. He couldn’t leave you to deal with this alone.

He didn’t have time to say bye to his teammates. He barely had time to slip his shoes on, grabbing his jacket as he sprinted out the door. He felt around his pocket for the key to the apartment. He gripped it so tight that he could feel the skin of his palm being punctured. He struggled a bit with unlocking the door with shaky hands, but when he did, he walked into silence.

Atsumu called for you, and then again, and then a third time before he noticed your foot peeking slightly out of the kitchen doorway. His stomach clenched as he slowly rounded the corner. There, he found you, staring into bloody hands, knife across from you on the floor. He paused, mostly out of shock, but also trying to figure out where the blood was coming from. 

He crouched down in front of you as you began scratching wildly at your forearms. “(y/n), what do yah need me to do?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean… My hands…” 

“Lemme see.”

He gently took ahold of your hands and dabbed them clean with the towel hanging off the stove. You didn’t wince. You didn’t flinch. He was concerned with your lack of reaction. He finally found where the cuts were. Shallow slices across your palms. He exhaled the breath he’d been holding and pulled you in for a tight hug.

“I tried to stop. I did. I couldn’t—” A sob racked through your body as you tried to explain. 

He knew you didn’t want this. He knew you were trying. He knew. He really did. 

Atsumu’s hands carded through your hair, scratching slightly. He kissed all over your face, slowly and softly. First your forehead, then your eyelids, your cheeks, and your nose. He rested his forehead against yours, hoping your breathing would steady.

“Can I get yer hands cleaned up?” He whispers, hands sliding to your shoulders.

You nod and let him help you to your feet. He would worry about the knife and the mess on the floor later. Right now, you were his priority. You. You, the one who basically pulled him from rock bottom on multiple occasions. You, the one who taught him how to love someone other than Osamu. You, the one who pressured him to try out for the team, knowing he’d make it. You, the one who held him when he cried and danced with him to terrible music and made him laugh and…

You, the one who let him take his anger out on. You, the one who let him fuck you senseless during one of his lows to ease the tension he was feeling. You, the one who let him bite and mark almost every inch of your body so he wouldn’t hurt himself. You, the one who took all of his pain and anxiety on as your own. You, the one he owes everything to. You.

Atsumu cleaned and bandaged your hands. You still looked like you were lost in space, tears drying on your cheeks. Atsumu wishes he could do more for you. He wants to be able to provide that solace, that safety that you need right now. He doesn’t know where to begin. 

He guides you to the couch and wraps you in a blanket. He wraps his arms and legs around you to apply pressure in as many places as he could. You don’t fight against him. You lean into his touch and exhale slowly.

“Atsumu. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“What do yah mean?”

“I need to quit working with the team.” Atsumu felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“The team makes yah happy. Don’t quit somethin’ ‘cause of the terrible people out there. That ain’t yah. And yah know it too. Yah worked too hard to get here to just let some fuckers persuade yah to drop off the deep end.”

He watches as you chew on the inside of your lip. He knew you didn’t want to quit, and he also knew that you couldn’t take much more of the harassment.

“Listen.” Atsumu mumbled into your hair. “Usually when athletes have some sorta scandal, they do a press conference, right? Why don’t we ask coach to hold one so yah can tell yer side of the story and we can tell ours.”

You raise an eyebrow. Now he’s got your attention. “A press conference?”

“Yeah. We can ask ‘Samu to come too.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I’m askin’.” 

Atsumu holds you like that until you fall asleep. He gently picks you up bridal style and carries you to his room where he can keep a better eye on you. He takes off your jeans and tucks you in under the blankets before he leaves the room to make a phone call.

He holds his phone up to his ear and sighs in relief when his call is answered.

“Miya, you better have a good reason for calling me this late.” Sakusa snaps.

“It’s (y/n). What’re yer feelin’s towards her?”

There’s a pause and the sounds of shuffling on the other line. “Why does this concern you right now?”

“Yah like her right? Like a lot?”

“I mean… yes I like her a lot. I think I love her.”

“Good. She’s doin’ bad. We gotta organize a press conference to help her tell her side of the story.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me liking her?”

“I’m gonna need yah to confess to her at the press conference.”

The other end of the line goes dead. Atsumu curses and grips his phone a bit too hard, until it vibrates.

Omi-Kun: I’ll do it. Just tell me how.

*** 

“We’ve decided that a press conference would be the best course of action to allow all of the parties involved in the rumor to explain themselves in a professional manner.” Coach Foster informs the reporter.

“What are your thoughts on the article that published the supposed rumor?”

“You want my honest opinion?”

The reporter quirks a brow. “Yes? I want to know what you think.”

“I think it’s a load of garbage.” He scoffs. “To attack an important member of our team with allegations that could ruin her career… The Black Jackals support (y/n) with everything we have, and we will not be swayed by stupid ass opinions over a few photos. Honestly, none of these pictures are worthy of ruining a career.”

“The team seems more aggressive on the court lately, any input on what is causing that?”

“I thought that was obvious? One of their own was basically thrown into the tabloids. She’s been continuously harassed by reporters, fans, and random people on the street. They’re stressed. They’re in full attack mode. They’re showing that they don’t take kindly to anyone that messes with one of their own.” Foster laughs bitterly. “They’re going to protect her with everything they have on and off the court.”

“I… Uh… Thank you Coach Foster for your opinion on the matter. We will catch back up with you at the press conference next week.”

Coach Foster nods with a smile and walks back over to the team. They’ve been your bodyguards for the last few days, especially after Atsumu explained why he left the party so abruptly, with your permission. The team decided as a whole that at least one of them would be with you at all times. No matter what you did, one of them would be there to fend off the trash of Osaka. 

Coach Foster is proud of them for taking the initiative, but he’s worried that they’re overstepping. He did notice that Sakusa and Atsumu have been around you less and less. He can’t tell if they’re trying to get the attention away from you, or if they’re keeping it away from themselves. They’ve all still been meeting for their required weekly sessions, but it seems like it’s just washing right off. Foster really hopes that things turn around after this press conference. He really does.

*** 

You’ve decided that you’re going to stay in a hotel for the week prior to the press conference. You appreciated the guys for watching over you, but you really needed to be able to handle it yourself. Osamu offered to stay with you and take off from the shop for a few days, but you turned him down. Atsumu got quite angry with you for constantly turning down help from others. He told you that you’re not burdening the team at all and they really do want to help. 

But again, you declined. What if the other members get wrapped up in this too? What if you’re accused of being a home wrecker? Not that you’re not already seen as one.

You walk up to the front desk at the hotel, face mask covering the lower half of your face in hopes that no one recognizes you. “Hi, I have a reservation under (y/n).”

The concierge glances at you and starts checking you in. Thank gods she didn’t say anything. You felt fidgety and tried your hardest not to scratch. 

“In sports news today,” The reporter on the lobby TV booms, “the Black Jackals will hold a press conference to discuss the recent rumors that have been spreading about their mental health advisor.”

“It seems like they want to give her a chance to explain herself.” The second reporter scoffs. “It won’t make much of a difference though. It seems like she’s dug her own ditch at this point.”

“Right. She’s still seen with a member of the team almost daily.”

“I want to know what sort of black magic she’s using on the team. If I could have a team like the Black Jackals be at my beck and call, I think I’d be in heaven.”

You grit your teeth and hope the concierge checks you in a bit quicker. 

But she does not.

“Aren’t you the lady they’re talking about on the news?” She yells to you. “The one that’s been trying to get with the whole team?”

Your body tenses before you realize it. You can feel your chest tighten. The lobby goes silent and you can feel a few chairs scraping from people standing up abruptly. You can taste bile in the back of your throat as you swallow harshly. You start to struggle breathing and your head starts to throb.

“I’m… I’m just here to check into my room.” You force out, hands shaking violently.

“How’d you get the whole team to be obsessed with you?” Someone shouted at you.

“You’re gonna end up holding the whole team back from winning. Just quit already, you bitch.”

“Can I please check into my room?” Your voice is frantic. You feel like you’re drowning.

“Fuck you! I hope the team kicks you to the curb.”

“You don’t deserve to be with a group of nice men like them!”

The concierge frowns at you and hands you your keycard, which you practically snatch out of her hands before you turn to the elevator, hoping no one will follow you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A hand shoots out and grabs you forcefully by the arm, pulling you from the elevator.

You stumble and trip over your suitcase. You hit the ground hard and yelp out in pain. You can’t register anything happening around you, other than the shouting and the dull throb in your backside. You want to get out of there. You want to go home. You want to be away from everyone. You want to disappear. You want to…

You wish you were dead.

“(y/n)!” A familiar voice shakes you out of your downward spiral. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing to her?”

You turn your head towards the man coming towards you. Your eyes widen in surprise. He’s shoving people out of the way. He’s touching everyone to get to you. He’s not even wearing gloves.

“Sakusa-san?” You can hold back the hitch in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

The crowd parts for him as he rushes to you. He kneels on the floor and looks you over for any injuries. He touches your arm where the person pulled you from the elevator and you wince. You can see the muscles in his face clench, even under his mask. 

“Who did this to you?” Sakusa hisses.

“It’s not even worth it.” You mumble. “Please… let’s just go. Please.”

Sakusa nods and helps you to your feet. He glances back one more time, you’re guessing his face was threatening due to the way the crowd flinches. He ushers you into the elevator and you press the floor your room is on. The elevator ride is silent. Sauksa keeps his shaky hand loosely around your wrist. It’s almost as if you’re the one grounding him, rather than the other way around.

You felt like you were plummeting, even though the elevator was taking the two of you up. You knew Sakusa was uncomfortable. He touched so many strangers to get to you. You felt horrible. Your mind keeps thinking about the negative outcomes; Sakusa realizes you’re a quack of a therapist and leaves, Sakusa reverts back to his old self and you have to start from scratch, or Sakusa starts to hate you for unintentionally dragging him into this mess.

You take a deep shaky breath when the elevator stops. Sakusa’s hand tightens around your wrist and he leads you to your room. He gestures for the keycard and unlocks your hotel room. Once the door shuts behind you, he pulls you into a crushing hug. His body shakes as he rests his head on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his shirt. He smelled like fresh linens and hints of coffee. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him.

“I’m more concerned with you.”

“Sakusa-san. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay. Don’t lie to me.”

“I just… want this to be over with. I’m tired of feeling like a terrible person and a manipulator.”

“You’re neither of those things.”

“It’s hard to think that when all I hear is…”

Just quit. You don’t deserve them. Fuck you.

“Don’t listen to those stupid ass people who think they know who you are.” Sakusa snaps. “You’re the one that said, ‘you should only focus on what you think and know about yourself.’ Who cares what they say about you?”

“I care! I care because my future is on the line!” You push Sakusa away and start scratching your forearms. “My spot at the university is on the line! Everything is on the line right now. I know I’m not what those people say I am, I know. But it’s so damn hard to not let it affect me when I can lose everything I worked hard for.”

Sakusa doesn’t say anything. He just listens as you try to hold back the sob in your throat. He gently reaches out and grabs your hands to keep you from scratching. You try to back away, but you’re up against the door. He pulls back and clenches his fists.

“Do you want me to leave?” Sakusa whispers.

“I… I don’t know what I want.”

“Do you need me to call Atsumu or Osamu?”

“No. No. I’ve burdened them enough.”

“Then let me help you.”

Sakusa takes your hands in his and leads you to the hotel bathroom. He sits you down on the edge of the tub and takes a look at your irritated forearms. You broke skin in a few places and tiny beads of blood are bubbling to the top. He pulls the first aid kit that he apparently carries around with him and cleans your wounds. You hiss at the antiseptic when it touches your skin.

“Stay still. I promise I’m almost done.”

You bite your lip and close your eyes. “Thanks, Sakusa-san.”

“Omi.” Your eyes open and you watch him bandage the small cuts, heart thrumming in your chest at his gentle touches. “Call me Omi.”

*** 

Sakusa leaves your hotel room after you eventually fall asleep. He left you a note saying to call him when you wake up. As he leaves the hotel itself, he scowls at everyone that tries to talk or apologize to him. He’s still fuming. Those disgusting people touched you. They hurt you. They spewed lies from their asshole shaped mouths. He’d never forgive them.

He slams his apartment door when he gets home and paces in front of his shower. He feels disgusting. Those trash people touched him. He touched them. He shoved them out of the way without hesitation. All just to get to you. He stops in front of the mirror and sighs.

He pulls out his phone and calls Atsumu. He tells him what happened at the hotel, which sends Atsumu into a screaming fit that resulted in Sakusa holding his phone away from his ear. Once he calms down, Sakusa speaks up again.

“I thought I loved her.” He mumbled to himself.

“What’s that supposed ta mean?” Atsumu snaps.

“Let me finish, dumbass.” Atsumu huffs on the other end of the line. “I thought I loved her, but after physically moving people out of the way to get to her, I know I do now.”

“Atta boy Omi!”

“Shut up. I need you to help me figure out how to do this. How to tell her I love her at the press conference.”

“Yer not just gonna come out and say it?”

“No you piece of shit.”

“Fuck yah Omi.”

“I need to make it so that the press doesn’t think I’ve been manipulated.”

“That’ll be easy.”

“How the fuck is that easy? Easy for you maybe.”

“Right. Right. Yer the one who’s been touch-starved and emotionally locked away like some kinda princess. Is (y/n) yer knight in shinin’ armor?”

Sakusa groans. “I’m very close to hanging up on you.”

“Yer the one that called me.”

“I’ve made a mistake.”

“Oh my god Omi. Just tell the people how she helped yah. Tell ‘em how she pulled yah from the depths of myso-whatever and show ‘em how she helped yah. Shake a few hands. Kiss her on the mouth. I donno.”

“Kiss her on the mouth? Are you mad?”

“Kay then. How else’re yah gonna prove it?”

“…Okay I’ve only kissed one person in my life.”

“And?”

“It was Motoya. On accident. When we were seven.”

“Holy fuck Omi-kun. Yer gonna fuck this up.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious.”

Atsumu hums on the other end of the line. Probably thinking, which is a scary thing in Sakusa’s mind. The next words that come out of Atsumu’s mouth made Sakusa hang up the phone immediately and run to the shower to scrub the entire idea out of existence.

He gets out of the shower to see new messages from Atsumu and frowns.

Atsumu: I swear it wasn’t a joke Omi!!!!!  
Atsumu: I can help yah practice!!  
Atsumu: I’m quite the expert ;)

Sakusa: Fuck off.

Atsumu: Omiiiiiiiiii!!!! :(  
Atsumu: Shouyo-kun said it was okay! He said he’d help too!!!!!! 

Sakusa: Stop.

Atsumu: I’ll keep spammin yah till yah say yes!!!!!!!

Sakusa groans he knows he needs practice, but this isn’t how he wanted to go about it. He’d rather die than let Atsumu kiss him under any circumstances. If it was between death and kissing Atsumu, he’d choose death.

But he didn’t want to let you down.

Sakusa: Fuck. Fine. I hate this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go!! :)


	7. The Next Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Relax.” Suna whispers to you. “You won’t fuck this up. You’re smart. You know you’re better than these people.”
> 
> “Thanks, Suna.” You take a deep breath and close your eyes.
> 
> “Besides, the only one that can actually fuck this up is Atsumu, since he’s a complete and utter—”
> 
> “Sunarin.” Atsumu says in a sing-song voice. “I can hear yah from this side of the table, and I will not hesitate ta strangle yah after this.”
> 
> Suna gasps dramatically. “And I thought we were friends. ‘Samu, didja hear that?”
> 
> “What?” Osamu yawns. “I was thinkin’ about my future nap.”
> 
> “I’m bein' disappointed from all directions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it!!! The last chapter! I'm so happy I decided to post this instead of just letting it sit in a folder on my laptop!
> 
> Thank you for all the love, support, and encouragement :) You all made this so much more fun and meaningful :')

The day of the press conference comes quickly. You were prepared. Well at least you thought you were. There were dozens of reporters and cameras in the room. A long table spanned across the stage with little name cards for who sits where. You were obviously placed in the middle. Immediately to your right was Suna, and right of him was Osamu. To your immediate left was Sakusa, with Atsumu on the end. You’re not sure why they separated the twins from you, but you were happy they’d be too far apart to fight.

You wore a pair of black capri dress pants with a matching blazer, a pair of black heels, and a crisp white blouse. You kept your hair down and kept your make up to a minimum. You were too stressed to do a full face.

The men in line with you at the table were wearing their team’s track suits, aside from Osamu, who was dressed sharply in a gray three-piece suit and a black tie with the Onigiri Miya logo on it.

You glanced around the room and spotted the rest of the team standing against the wall in the back of the room. They looked intimidating, especially Barnes, who bucked at anyone who tried to ask them questions.

“Okay everyone.” The emcee calls out to the crowd. “We’re going to begin in 5 minutes. You’re only allowed to ask questions after every panel member has finished talking. Also, do not ask questions if you are not called on. You will be asked to leave if you do not follow the rules. Alright? Good.”

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you try to do your deep breathing exercises. They’re not exactly working, but you have nothing else to help cope at the minute. You feel a hand pat your right thigh and you jump in your seat.

“Relax.” Suna whispers to you. “You won’t fuck this up. You’re smart. You know you’re better than these people.”

“Thanks, Suna.” You take a deep breath and close your eyes.

“Besides, the only one that can actually fuck this up is Atsumu, since he’s a complete and utter—”

“Sunarin.” Atsumu says in a sing-song voice. “I can hear yah from this side of the table, and I will not hesitate ta strangle yah after this.”

Suna gasps dramatically. “And I thought we were friends. ‘Samu, didja hear that?”

“What?” Osamu yawns. “I was thinkin’ about my future nap.”

“I’m bein' disappointed from all directions.”

You can’t help but smile at their antics.

“There it is.” Sakusa sighs. “I was wondering when you’d give a real smile again.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, right as the buzzer alerting everyone that the panel will begin. You clench your jaw and wait for the emcee to take his place at the podium. 

“Hello everyone and thank you for coming!” He smiles at the crowd. “Today we’re going to be discussing the rumors surrounding (y/n)-san and her relationships with everyone present at the table. Now, first things first, I will introduce everyone at the table and give them a minute or so to discuss how they know (y/n)-san. Firstly, we have Miya Osamu, the owner of Onigiri Miya.”

Osamu straightens up in his seat and clears his throat. “Hello. I’m Miya Osamu, but to make this easier, just call me Osamu.” You’ve never heard Osamu sound so formal before. You couldn’t help but furrow your brows. “My relationship with (y/n) is simple; she’s one of my closest friends. We met when she came into my shop one day askin' for an oddly specific onigiri that she had a dream about the night before.”

The room chuckles a bit before Osamu continues.

“It was so out there, that I thought about marryin' her on the spot, but I figured Rintarou wouldn’t like that. After that, she would come in ev'ryday just to study for upcomin' exams, work on projects with some people, or just to hang out. Her company was welcome, and she brought life to my shop. She’s been one of my best friends ever since.”

“Thank you, Osamu-san.” The emcee nods. “Next is Suna Rintarou, a member of the EPJ Raijin volleyball team.”

“Sup, I’m Suna Rintarou, and my relationship with (y/n) is similar to ‘Samu’s. She’s a really good friend of mine and I met her through Osamu. He kept tellin' me about this girl who dreamt of onigiri and asked him to make it for her, which turned out to be disgustin'. But no one said it would be good.” You roll your eyes at him. “I came to the shop one day after my team played the Jackals and she was there, beggin' him to make another one of those monstrosities. Of course, I was skeptical of some random girl askin' my man to make random onigiri, until she introduced herself to me. I could see why Osamu wanted to keep her close, she’s somethin' special alright. I can’t ask for anyone better to help me pick-on the Miya twins.” Suna leans over and pats your shoulder.

“Thank you, Suna-san!” The emcee clears his throat. “Next up, we have Sakusa Kiyoomi, a member of the MSBY Black Jackals.”

Sakusa sighs and grips at his track pants. “I’m Sakusa Kiyoomi, and I really wish I didn’t have to explain myself right now to people who don’t deserve it.”

“Oi, Omi-kun. This is for (y/n).” Atsumu whispers.

“Right okay.” He takes a deep breath and continues. “(y/n) is my therapist and a close friend of mine. I don’t have very many, so she’s important to me. She came to me, with this wild idea that I would be able to overcome my mysophobia. I thought it was stupid idea, there was no way I could do that. No way I could actually be a functioning member of society without being afraid that everything is covered in germs. But she proved me wrong.”

He sits up a bit straighter and places a hand on Atsumu’s face. Atsumu mumbles something under his breath and scowls.

“Without her help, I couldn’t do this, or shake someone’s hand, or give my team high-fives after a good play, or hug another person, or… Stuff like that. She’s shown me that even though life is scary and that germs will always be there; I can’t let it stop me from living my life to the fullest. She helped me officially start my life and showed me what having a friend means.”

You can’t help but smile when you see a blush dust his cheeks. 

“Thank you, Sakusa-san!” The emcee straightens his tie. “Lastly, Miya Atsumu, another member of the MSBY Black Jackals.”

“Hey, ladies and gents. Yah know who I am, so no need to repeat.” Atsumu smirks. “(y/n) and I are roommates. We’ve been livin’ together for three years and she’s my best friend. I met her through ‘Samu since she was lookin’ for a roommate and apparently complained about it in the shop a few times.”

“She complained ev'ryday she came in.” Osamu corrects.

Atsumu nods in agreement. “Anyways, she’s the one that persuaded me to stick with the Black Jackals, so I have her to thank for my career. I’m not sure what I’d do without her if I’m bein’ honest with all of yah. She’s helped me through so many tough times and been a part of so many good times too. She encouraged me to ask Shouyo-kun out on a date and I’m real glad she did.” Hinata grins from the back of the room. “I love her to death and it really pisses me off that yah think she’s usin’ black magic to seduce us or somethin’.”

“Thank you, Atsumu-san.” The emcee shuffles a few papers on the podium. “Now, (y/n)-san will begin to discuss the rumors as well as the photos that have been posted with the article.” He motions to you and you feel your body tense. “(y/n)-san, if you would.”

“Yes.” You fidget in your seat a bit before beginning. “I’m (y/n), and I have been the mental health advisor for the MSBY Black Jackals for about six months. I really enjoy working with the team and being able to watch them all grow as people.” You continue to discuss what you do specifically and explain the boundaries you made that are explicitly written in their consent forms. You pause for a moment to take a deep breath and motion for someone to get the projector running.

“Now I’d like to explain each photo, with the help of the people in them, so that they are no longer misinterpreted.” The first photo the pops up on the screen behind you in the one of you and Osamu. “This photo was taken while Osamu and I were hanging out together in Osaka after the team bonding party.”

“To keep people from inferrin' that this was behind my back,” Suna chimes in, “I have the text messages from that night tellin' the two of them to go out and have a kickass time. Also, I asked them to send me these pictures. This one specifically,” he motions to the screen, “is my phone’s background.”

“Thanks, Suna.” You turn your attention back to the screen. “Osamu and I were spending the night out together since we were both stressed. Nothing inappropriate happened between the two of us.”

“I would have been cooped up in the shop if she hadn’t dragged me out with her.” Osamu clarifies. “If you all think it’s weird that we show affection between physical touch, then you can blame my momma for ingrainin' that into me and ‘Tsumu.”

“Does anyone have any questions?” 

Voices boomed throughout the room, until the emcee selected the one who could ask the question.

“Why was Suna-san not present in all of this? Also, if Suna-san was there, would the displays of affection be different.”

“I was in Tokyo where I live?” Suna furrows his brows. “It’s not like I was about to drive for hours just to have to drive back early the next mornin'. Also, no. Nothin' would be different because nothin' they did was harmful in any way.” He backs away from the mic. “Is no one listenin' or am I having a stroke?”

“Rin please.” Osamu covers Suna’s mouth with his hand. Suna shrugs and the next person asks a question.

“Osamu-san, do you often spend more time with (y/n)-san than Suna-san?”

“Okay now I understand what yah mean.” He mumbles to Suna. “Um, yes? She comes into the shop a lot and she lives with my brother. I see her quite a bit. Also, again, Rin lives in Tokyo, so I only see him when he either comes to Osaka for games, or if I go to Tokyo to check on the other shop I opened.”

“Okay we can take one more question.”

“(y/n)-san, is it often that you spend time alone with the men in the panel?”

“Yes?” You quirk a brow. “I’m the therapist for two of them, I live with Atsumu, and I spend time with Osamu at his shop after he closes. Suna and I video chat on occasion, but again, he lives in Tokyo.”

“Sounds a bit suspicious. Are you sure you just hang out with them?”

“Oi.” Atsumu snaps. “What the fu—”

“To clarify,” you cut him off with a scowl, “Atsumu, Osamu, and Suna are gay. Openly gay, might I add. Furthermore, Sakusa is still dealing with his mysophobia. So, if you think for one second that I’m deliberately spending time alone with any of them to have sex with them, then please, don’t waste my time with irrelevant questions that you already know the answer to.”

“Is it gettin' a bit cold in here, or has the ice queen risen from her slumber?” Suna whispers into your ear.

“O-okay!” The emcee takes control of the situation. “Let’s move onto the next photo.”

The screen changes again and now it’s the photo of Atsumu kissing the top of your head.

“This photo is from my first day working with the Black Jackals.” You take a quick glance at it and continue. “As you can see, Atsumu is kissing my head.”

“Yeah, I bought her the wrong coffee, and I was apologizin’.” Atsumu shrugs. “If yah think it’s weird, take it up with momma Miya.”

“He was also assuring me that I would be fine and that the team would be happy to have me as a new member.”

“I was right, yah know.”

“Now we will take questions.” The emcee picks someone from the back of the room.

“Why isn’t Hinata-san on the panel as well? He and Atsumu-san are a couple, and it would make sense to get his opinion on the matter.”

“Because I don’t care!” Hinata yells from the back of the room.

“Because Shouyo-kun and I weren’t datin’ then. Irrelevant. Next.” Atsumu waves his hand.

“(y/n)-san, it’s been noted that you have been living at a hotel for the past week or so. Is that because you wanted to distance yourself from Atsumu-san?”

“It’s because I’m being harassed by reporters and angry fans outside of my own home.” The panel members, as well as the rest of the Black Jackals glare into the crowd. “Not only was I verbally assaulted, but I was also physically assaulted at the hotel. I receive hate mail daily, people call me a bitch, they tell me to quit the team, I’ve been pushed and shoved, and recently, I’ve been thrown to the ground. I stayed at the hotel so Atsumu wouldn’t have to see it, and so Atsumu wouldn’t do anything to result in losing his job.”

“If there are no further questions…” The emcee changes the screen to the last picture.

The picture you’ve been dreading.

You take a deep breath and straighten in your seat. “This picture is of Omi-kun and I reuniting after I was at my parent’s for a week.”

“I can explain further, even though it’s none of your business.” Sakusa snaps. “I asked the team to help me progress in my touch-therapy so I could surprise her when she returned home. Hugging was something I thought I could never do, but as you can see, it happened. Also, I tried to push myself to be able to touch people more than I was comfortable with, so I… you know… put my forehead… on her’s.”

“No need to get shy, Omi-kun.” Atsumu teases.

“Fu—shut up Atsumu. It was a friendly ‘welcome back’ hug and nothing more.”

“I was surprised to say the least.” You chuckle nervously. “When I left for home, Omi-kun was only able to touch an ungloved hand for thirty seconds before feeling uncomfortable. He progressed a lot in that week and I was extremely proud of him. I still am proud of him.”

“Questions?”

“Sakusa-san, why would you go out of your way to impress your therapist? From what she said, you had a timeline of goals to reach that would take months, but you seemed to progress quickly outside of therapy.”

“Uhhhh…” Sakusa clenches his fists and stares down at the table. “Because I thought she would… I wanted her to… Ugh. Damn it.” Sakusa takes a deep breath and looks right at you. “Because I’m in love with her.”

“Oh shit. That was sooner than I thought.” Atsumu gasps.

“Well, this is a great turn of events, huh ‘Samu?” Suna nudges Osamu.

“Fantastic turn of events Rin.” Osamu agrees.

“What did you say?” The emcee sputters.

“Omi-kun… Why?” You whisper.

“Because I’m tired of waiting to tell you.” He gently grasps your hand and turns towards the room full of shocked reporters. “I promise she didn’t manipulate me. Not once did I feel like I was being used nor did I feel like I was being pushed to feel this way. She asked me my preferred cleaning supplies, made sure she followed the rules I set for everyone, and respected me as a person, not just a professional athlete. She unconsciously made me open up to her.”

He rolls his eyes at the team cheering for him at the back of the room. “I didn’t realize how I felt until I forced my way through a crowd of people to get to her. I didn’t care if I touched anyone or if anyone touched me. I just needed to get to her.” Sakusa turns to you, soft eyes and genuine smile. “If you’ll have me, I’d like you keep being a part of my life.”

You stare wide-eyed at him. You can’t find the words to say so you clamp your mouth shut and nod. His hands gently cupped your face and he pulled you in for a kiss. When your lips connected, you felt the thrum of electricity spread through your body. His lips were soft, and his hands were lightly calloused from years of volleyball. Warmth bloomed across your cheeks. You smiled into the kiss, pulling him closer to you by the front of his jacket. You forgot there was a press conference going on. You didn’t care.

Sakusa Kiyoomi, your boyfriend, was kissing you, on national television.

Needless to say, the press conference ended abruptly. But at least it was on an amazing note.

*** 

Atsumu looked around the empty apartment and sighed dramatically. So many years of memories. So many fun times. So many stupid dance parties. He was going to miss this. He was going to miss you.

“Atsumu,” You shout from the doorway, “are you—” 

“Do yah remember when we moved in?” Atsumu said longingly. “We argued the entire time about who gets what room, and where the couch was gonna go.”

“I’m glad we could get through all of our decisions with rock-paper-scissors.” You laughed as you wrapped an arm around his waist.

Atsumu wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Look at us now, still solvin’ things like that.”

“Kiyoomi was not happy that rock-paper-scissors decided which house we were moving into.”

“Omi-kun’s just mad that yah picked the house next to the one Shouyo-kun and I bought.”

“Seems like I’ll never get away from you.”

“Yer stuck with me forever, yah know?”

You rub his back soothingly. A fat tear rolls down his face while he takes in the empty apartment one last time. You have to drag him down to the moving truck where Hinata and Sakusa are waiting patiently. The two of them must have been talking about something funny because Hinata is giggling and Sakusa is pretending his mask is hiding his smile.

“How hard did you cry, Atsumu-kun?” Hinata giggled.

“Sadly, it was only one tear.” You sigh.

“Yah were bettin' on my sadness?” Atsumu whines.

“What else would we be doing?” Sakusa deadpans.

“Fuck all of yah.”

“I won though, so the two of them have to go get dinner.” Sakusa mumbles as he opens his car door. “Can we go now? I want to sanitize the house before we move our stuff in.”

“Have we learned nothing Kiyoomi?” You groan.

“I’ve learned to listen to you and then do what I want.”

“What a great start to the concept of compromise!” Hinata laughs.

Atsumu watches as the two of you bicker over what sanitizing the house would look like. He was happy for you, he really was. Sure, he’s sad that he won’t be able to share the same space as you every day, but he’s ready to start a life with Hinata. Even if Hinata decided to go abroad for a season or two, he’d never truly be alone. Not with you and Sakusa living next door of course.

“Atsumu-kun, are you ready to go?”

Atsumu smiles at his ball of sunshine. “Yeah, babe, let’s get our life started.”

*** 

Sakusa wakes up to a knock on the door. He grumbles and gets to his feet, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. He scratches the curls on his head and groans when the knock at the door becomes louder.

“There better be a good reason for waking me up at,” he peeks at the alarm clock and gits his teeth, “six in the morning on a Saturday.”

He opens the front door, preparing to chew out whoever it is, but holds his tongue when he realizes it’s you. You’re pulling your suitcase behind you with a big smile plastered on your face.

“I’m home!” You beam. 

You’ve been on a work trip for a week and a half to present research about how mental health professionals help improve athletes’ (specifically volleyball players) performance. He was so proud of you, but extremely upset that you decided to use EPJ Raijin and the Adlers for your research samples. You had to take two seasons off from working for the Jackals and stay with Suna for a while, but you were doing great things for athletes and their mental health.

Sakusa grins sleepily and pulls you in for a tight hug. "Missed you."

“I missed you too, Kiyoomi.” You laugh and return the embrace. “I’d like to come in though.”

He grabs your suitcase and ushers you in the door. “You’re home early.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.”

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “I’m just surprised is all. I would have made you breakfast or something if I knew you were coming home today.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You flop onto the couch and yawn. “My research assistant moved our presentation to an earlier date.”

“Why’d she do that?”

“Well, a blond birdy told me that someone was getting a little crabby at practice.” 

“He must have been talking about himself. I don’t get crabby.”

You hum in response and continue. “So, I asked her to move it to an earlier date so I could get back to my crabby outside hitter.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” He smiles softly.

“Of course I did! It’s because I love you, Omi.”

“Sometimes I wonder.”

“Hey!”

You jump up from the couch and attempt to tackle him, but he’s a lot stronger than you and easily tosses you over his shoulder. You yelp in surprise when he smacks your ass.

“You wake me up early,” smack “sit on the clean couch with your dirty travel clothes,” smack “and then have the audacity to try to attack me?” Smack smack smack.

You can’t control your laughter and try to wiggle out of his grasp, but his hold is firm. “I’m sorry! I was just so excited to see you!”

“Well now we’re getting a shower and going to bed.” Smack.

“As long as you promise to wash me.” You say cheekily.

Smack.

“Ow! That one actually hurt.”

“I’m sorry, I thought this was supposed to be a punishment?” Sakusa sets you on the counter in the bathroom and kisses you on the cheek. “What? Do you like being punished?”

You grab his wrist and pull him closer to you. “And if I do?”

He was glad he didn’t get to put a shirt on this morning. Your soft hands trace the lines of muscles on his abdomen and chest, scratching slightly along his shoulders and the nape of his neck. Your fingers card through his inky curls. He shivers at your touch, leaning in closer, lips hovering above yours.

“Then I guess I’d have to stop.” Sakusa pulls back suddenly and you gasp dramatically.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi you tease!”

“You love it.” He chuckles as he turns on the shower. “If you didn’t, I guess you wouldn’t have married me, huh?”

“I guess I’m stuck with you forever.”

Sakusa smiles, walking over to you and planting a kiss on your forehead. You giggle and cup his face, pulling him in for a proper kiss. The first one the two of you have shared in over a week. It sent sparks up his spine. He still gets lightheaded every time you touch or kiss him. He can’t believe you said yes when he asked you to marry him last year. You were so happy that you cried for hours. Sakusa shed a few happy tears also. He was really thankful that Atsumu helped him plan that.

Every time he looks at you or feels the ring dangling from his neck at games, he thinks of where he started. Three years ago, when you introduced yourself and tried to shake his hand, he felt sick to his stomach at the thought of shaking anyone’s hand. Three years ago, when you told him he’d have to go through touch-therapy, he wanted to drop off the face of the earth. Three years ago, when you touched his hand for the first time without a glove, or when you cupped his face during one of his panic attacks, or when you softly rubbed his wrists when he’d feel uncomfortable, he felt like he couldn’t live without you.

The two of you moved in together two years ago. Sure, he wasn’t too happy to have Atsumu and Hinata as neighbors, but he’s somewhat happy to have them around now. The two of you had a few arguments that resulted in angry tears and regretful words, but you always worked it out. You always made sure the two of you would resolve the issue as a team rather than compete to see who’s right.

Sakusa went from being touch-starved, to never getting tired of being touched by you, or touching you. He always reaches out for a quick ruffle of your hair, to wrap his pinky around yours, or a quick peck on the cheek. When you’re gone, he simmers, just waiting for you to come back so he can get his fill of physical contact. The team makes fun of him for it, but he’s unbothered. He’s just so happy and lucky that he has you in his life.

Getting intimate took some time too. He was grateful that you were patient with him. It took almost a whole year of dating before he had the confidence to initiate something. He was embarrassed, but you were so encouraging (and probably super eager to get fucked finally) and you made sure he was comfortable. Once he had a taste of unknown pleasures, he couldn’t keep himself from asking for more. And more of you he got.

“I guess you are.” He smiles, pulling you in for another kiss.

“I love you, Kiyoomi.” You whisper against his lips.

“I love you too, (y/n). I always will.”

He couldn’t ask for a better forever.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time actually posting something like this! I appreciate all and any feedback :) Enjoy!!


End file.
